Second Chances
by PlagueRatsEA
Summary: When Kyle commits suicide, he is given a second chance by the angel of destiny. He get's to witness different types of futures that gets him paired up with different types of guys in South Park. Question is, which boy will Kyle pick for his second chance?
1. Second Chance

"Isn't it a lovely thought?"

"Wouldn't you love to see more?"

I opened my eyes as I barely heard the whimper of a calm voice speaking out to me. All I could see in front of me was a figure of a girl. Her back was facing me and her light brown hair was shimmering in the wind. She wore a light baby green dress that had fallen to her lower thigh, and had her shimmering long hair was tide loosely by a light green bow into a ponytail. She had white flats on and light porcelain skin. She was standing in a field filled with grass and odd flowers. The wind was light and mild and I felt it pound softly on my face, ruffling my hair. I looked around me noticing I was on a field. I tried to look beyond the field, but that was all there was, just more of the field. The sky was light blue, and there were twinkling yellow lights only around us. The whole scenery, including the lights, was far too bright for me to handle. I noticed my green ushanka was gone and I was wearing a buttoned up T-shirt in the same color as the girl's dress. My pants were pure white and I only had baby light green socks on. I was lying on the field, dismayed. Where was I? One minute I was under a cold wave of waters drowning my senses, the next I was here.

"You're probably wondering what you're doing in this field." The girl said calmly, not turning back, with a soft milky voice. That voice was somehow calming my worries and filled me with nostalgia. "This is another world unlike your own." She continued.

"What?" I just asked, still dismayed.

"This is another dimension separated from the one you've come to know."

I stood up, confused, yet intrigued at what she had to say.

"In this world there is no sorrow, there is neither night nor evening. It is filled with light, wonders, and choice. Your destiny is engraved in this field."

I just looked at her like she belonged in a mental institution. "Are you mentally stable?" I asked bluntly.

She just giggled lightly and said, "If you wish to leave, there is always that choice. Choices are lingering in this world, YOUR world."

"I'm sorry lady, but you're starting to freak me out a bit."

She turns to me with a light, calm face; she has a warm smile spread on her lips. "Reach your hands up and gently capture one of the lights."

I reluctantly obeyed her and caught one of the orb lights that trailed around us. I closed it in my hands and felt the warmth embrace my palms. I just gasped lightly as I felt this curious, calming feeling in my hands.

"It seems as though you have picked your closest friend."

I stare at her curiously? "Stan?"

"He is your future in that orb."

"Who are you? And why did you mention something about a lovely thought or if I'd like to see more of it, when I woke up? And what does this have to do with me or Stan Marsh?"

"I am the Angel of Destiny, here to show you the futures that await you within each ray of light. You, Kyle Broflofski, son of Sheila and Gerald Broflofski, untied blood brother of Ike Broflofski. Residence in South Park, Colorado. Red and curly hair, bright green eyes, light skin, background religion Jewish, sex is male, sex preference is homosexual, birthday May 26, age 17, occupation is a junior in high school. Am I not mistaken that you are this person?"

I stood there frozen and amazed. How did this person, claiming to be the Angel of Destiny, know all this about me? My family, my name, age, grade, and even my sexual preference! I had never told anyone that I was gay (besides my parents, who were too embarrassed to tell anything to anyone)!

"If you are wondering how I know all that about you, then the answer is simply in my name, Angel of Destiny. I am here to help you make the right choice within your future, predestined by you." She closed her eyes and smiled lightly, "Isn't it a lovely thought to have to live each choice you are given before finally choosing. To experience each way as anew and clean slate. It is like rebirth, but in this occasion you remain the same person with past experiences but hold different futures." She then looks to the orb of light I have cradled in my hands. "That ray of light you are holding is one of the many predestined futures that you may choose from. This future in particular leads you to grow and envelop your relationship with your closest friend into a lover."

"Oh, you mean like a role-play game where you have different outcomes…. AND WHAT DO YOU MEAN STAN IS MY LOVER!"

"Precisely, and he is only your lover in THIS specific future. That is a choice that envelops your future in destiny."

"What is the choice that affects my outcome?" I ask interested.

"The choice of your true love. You have many options that lay within South Park, Colorado that affects each ending of your future."

"So Stan is just one of those options, and there are many others that I could end up with that will greatly affect my overall future."

"Correct. Some paths are delightful, others are grim. Only you can choose."  
"So what happens when I choose?"

"You will be able to live out that future without memory of this or any of the other paths."  
I stood silent for a long time before finally speaking. "How does this whole process go?"  
"Once you decide to see one path, you shall awaken in your bed, unable to recall this and refer it only as a vague dream. Once you are done experiencing a path, you will return here with full knowledge once again."

"What if I want to try another path, do I forget everything again."

"Correct."

"Why are you doing this?" I asked, having this question lingering in my mind for quiet a while.

"Only for the reason that you have lost hope."

I flinch at the word hope. It must be true that she's an angel. How else did she know I have given up? I never told anyone that I attempted to commit suicide.

"You tried to disappear from this world by running away to San Francisco, only to jump of the Golden Bridge. You died, and came here. I am here, sent by God, to give you a second chance." She turned to me with a concerned and disappointed look on her face. "Or you could choose to stay here and continue your afterlife in this field, until you are transferred into heaven."

"B-but I committed suicide, don't I end up in Hell like everyone says?"

"What happens is not what everyone says. You will come to find many religions, including your own, have been right yet wrong in certain beliefs."

"I see."

"So what is your choice, will you venture this journey that has been given to you as a second chance, or will you remain here?"

"Do you do this to everyone that committed suicide?"

"No, only to those who have died, in any way, before their time has come."

I stood and thought a while. If I stay, I am guaranteed in heaven. I died on purpose, not caring where I ended up. So heaven shouldn't affect my decision much. Should I go back and try this little path choosing game? Why should I go back? I was just a burden to everyone anyways. How in the world, could I end up with anyone? I'm surprised I have the possibility to end up with Stan, and possibly more people. Could this mean that I have a chance at happiness? Could this mean that there are people that are willing to love me? My friends, they never seem to care for me lately. My parents, they have told me on numerous occasions that I am nothing to them, ever since I told them I was gay. I am a burden to my best friend Stan, who had a big fight with me and had told me that he never wanted to see my face again. I am a burden to my parents for being this way. I am a burden to all my other friends, who only see me as a weak Jewish nerd, and casted me aside. I'm pathetic. What right do I have to a second chance?

I felt tears well up, blurring my vision, streaming down my cheeks. I choked back some sobs and struggled to speak. "I-I thought you said t-that there were no *sniff* sorrows in t-this place." She simply stared at me in a compassionate and a pity filled expression, "As long as you choose to stay here, there will not be any. Though in this form, you experience the same emotions as always."  
"S-so if I stay here, I will never feel sorrow and this agonizing pain ever again! But if I choose to continue this little game, t-then I'll keep crying?"

"Correct, but sometimes sorrow is worth the happiness you receive out of free will and a long life of no regrets. You have no idea what you are turning down if you choose to stay here. What you have been given the second chance to live, your free will, is what all the angels in heaven envy."

"Who will love me? My parents are ashamed, my friends hate me. Jesus Christ, even my little brother looks down upon me!" I continued to cry in a pathetic way.

"All these woes that you have mistaken for a reason to end your life, is not the way it will stay for long." She opened her arms to embrace me, while I still cradled the orb of light. "You are worthy of light, my child. This soul of yours is not ready to depart from these memories. Your friends, and your family, they only are in distraught. You will see, later on, that you are not alone."

I cried on her shoulder for a few minutes, till I finally nodded my head. "O-ok. I-I'll give living another try." I joked with a weak smile, tears still streaming down my cheeks.

She held my face in her warm, calm hands very gently. Is this how an angel was? Warm and calm, and comforting? "You are to be forgiven, child." She wiped my tears away with her thumbs and then gently took my hands, which still cradled the orb, and cupped hers around mine. "Will this be your first path to view?" she calmly asked. I simply nodded and she slowly and gently opened my hands. "Close your eyes and gently cradle the light close to your heart." She commanded softly.

I did as I was told and I felt complete warmth and love in my heart. Then I woke up.

I stared at the ceiling, realizing I was in my bed and it was a school day, because the alarm rang off. I sat on my bed and rubbed my eyes. That was the strangest dream ever. Then again, I couldn't remember the dream itself, only that it was strange and oddly calming. I smacked the OFF button on my alarm clock and stepped out of bed. For some reason, I felt light-hearted and excited, like something good was going to happen. Despite all the angst and depression I was carrying for the last month, I felt like a new person this morning.

Still… I can't help but want to remember what that dream was.


	2. Since When Did Choices Have Style?

I head down the stairs after taking a shower and getting dress. I look ahead towards the living room and kitchen. No one seems to be there, my mother is probably on bed, refusing to make breakfast for her gay son. My father is at work, probably defending or persecuting someone in court this minute. My brother is still in England as an exchange student. He went just to get away from me, he even said so himself. I guess my sexuality preference bothers my family that much. At least my father isn't as dramatic as my little brother and controlling mother; still, he has been avoiding me ever since I came out. I was so afraid of telling anybody else, that I refrained from telling my friends, or anybody at school. Including my best friend Stan Marsh, whom I've been best friends with since even before preschool. He noticed that I have been hiding something from him, and after trying to pry it out of me, we got into a fight, he told me he never wanted to see me again. Worst of all Kenny seems to be dying more often for some reason, and Cartman is bullying me more and more than ever before. Despite all that crap and shit, I still feel hopeful today, I don't know why. Especially since I was considering suicide for the past two weeks.

I just head my direction to the kitchen and reach to the inside of the cupboard for a slice of bread. I head out the door with my house keys at hand and the slice of bread hanging out of my mouth. Stan is still angry at me, he'll probably never want to talk to me again. Kenny's probably dead from yesterday where he fell into a construction site and died instantly. Cartman's... well I don't really care anyways. So I take the long root to school, avoiding the bus stop where the four of us always waited at since elementary. The snow is just starting to melt away as winter is fading into spring. Although here in South Park, spring is considered a warm fall, where one wears light sweaters.

After a while of walking to the direction of my school, and after finishing my bread, I stop to check my book sack once more. I always check it twice at home, once before entering school, just in case I forget any homework or projects, or anything else. Good, all my homework is in check and all my notes are well kept. I then check my phone's clock to see if I'm late. I'm just in time, but I notice the date. February 2. Valentines will be soon. I just sigh and stuff my phone back into my pockets. What do I care when Valentine is, no guy in South Park will want to be with me. They are not gay, and even if they were, they wouldn't pick someone as nerdy and pathetic as me.

"No, stop that! You're in a good mood today, Kyle. You haven't been feeling this good for weeks. Don't ruin it with your pathetic thoughts and insecurities." I scold myself inside my mind.

I walk calmly into the front school doors as the first bell rings, signaling students to head to their assigned classes. When I reach my homeroom I sit down quietly, in absolute relief that Stan isn't here yet. Maybe he was sick, maybe he is skipping. No I shouldn't be relieved if he's sick, and I should be concerned if he's skipping. Despite our argument, last week, I still am worried about Stan. I wake up from my jumbled thoughts as I see the subject of worry walk in the door. He ignores me as he walks past my desk and sits behind me. I stare sheepishly at my desk before the bell rings.

After an awkward experience in homeroom and also the period after that, the bell finally rings, signaling lunch. Hungry as I am (especially since all I had was a slice of bread for breakfast) I am surprisingly ambushed by Stan as soon as I stepped out of class. He drags me mercilessly by the arm to an unknown location.

"Ah, S-Stan! Where are you-" I tried to ask before I was interrupted by him.  
A cruel, harsh, pissed, and almost hurt tone escaped from him as he said, "Shut up, I'm settling this now."

Realizing now where I was being dragged to, which was the back of the school next to the dumpster, I swallowed hard. He was going to beat the shit out of me, till I told him what I was hiding from him. My secret, that I'm gay! Before another thought slipped my mind, he tossed me fiercely to the wall of the dumpster, echoing a metallic thud. My back throbbed in pain as I caught myself from falling on my face. His hand gripped my neon orange jacket and pulled me up, forcing me to stand straight. I flinched when I opened my eyes, finding him barely an inch from my face.

"What the FUCK is wrong with you! Why didn't you tell me? Your best friend!" he screamed, pounding his warm breathe to my face, still very close in distance from me.

"T-tell you what?" I asked. Could it be? Did he find out I was gay?

"God dammit, Kyle! Don't play fucking dumb with me! I heard from my dad, who was told by your dad in confidence."

I felt tears well up, but I forced them from falling. "What d-did he tell you?"

"I get why you didn't tell anyone else, but why not me? Did you think I was going to shun you when I found out you were gay?" He practically screamed, a hurt expression spreading throughout his face.

I felt the tears stream down. Shit, I could keep them down. I sucked in the urge to break out into a sob, before speaking. "I... I'm s-sorry." I bowed my head in absolute shame, my early morning good mood dispersed.

He loosened his grip on my jacket and pulled me into his embrace, to my surprise. "God dammit, Kyle. I don't give a damn if you're straight, gay, or bisexual. Just stop hiding shit from me." He gave me a tight squeeze before I broke into sobs in his chest. "I'm s-so sorry!" I blurted oddly through my choked sobs.

"It's fine, just promise that you'll never keep something secret from me again. Dude, I thought you were hiding something big, not something like this."

"This isn't big?" I struggled to say, trying to calm myself down.

"No, I told you, gay or not, you're still my best friend." he reassured me before pulling me back.

He had a comforting smile on his face as he put his large hand on the top of my head. "Come on, dude. Calm down before we go back inside." I wipe my tears quickly, regaining my good mood.

We head back inside the hallway, instead of the cafeteria. "Hey, Stan. Thank you." I smiled weakly at him when we stopped in front of our lockers.

"For what?"

"I was feeling down for the past few weeks. My mom doesn't even accept me, and my brother was even more embarrassed of me when he heard in England. My dad has been avoiding me, I just thought that you-"

"That I would do the same?" He sighed as he sat on the ground, his back to the lockers. I followed after him, sitting besides him. "No, dude. I'm not your parents, or your brother. I wouldn't just shun you like they do."

There was silence before I gathered up the courage to speak again. "Can I tell you something that I haven't told anybody yet?"

He looked at me with curiosity and concern. "Sure."

"If it wasn't for you, you know, accepting me today, I think I could have hit rock bottom."

"What's rock bottom for you?"

"Suicide." I said softly. Looking at his face, he had a shocked expression with sadness enveloped in it. I continued, "I was thinking of it for the last two weeks. I was thinking I would run away somewhere where they had a nice tall bridge and jump or something." I buried my face in my arms which were wrapped around my legs.

There was an awkward silence before he broke it. "Kyle." I peeked my head up a bit to look at him. "I had no idea it was that bad."

"Well, it is. It's not easy being gay in a red neck town, AND with controlling parents."

He wrapped his arm around me in comfort. "You gotta promise me, no matter what happens in the future, you will not, in ANY circumstances, commit suicide." I just shake my head and say "Promise."

The bell rang, signaling lunch to be over. His arm unwrapped from around me and he got up. "Well," he said reaching his hand to me, "lets just go to class for now." I reach my own hand up and grab his as he pulls me up from the ground and unto my feet. We turn and open our lockers, gathering our books for the next class while people emerge from the cafeteria doors. "Are you going to tell anyone else?"

"Who am I going to tell? Cartman? Last I checked, he's an asshole."

He laughed lightly. "No, I meant Kenny, you know, when he comes back again. I think he'd deserve to know. He IS bi."

I sigh, "I guess..."

After a week and four days later, Kenny finally came back. Stan, Cartman, and me waited at the bus stop (like always), while Cartman and I were fighting about a new subject (as always). Then Kenny came walking to us with his familiar orange parka and brown nap sack.

"Mrmmh hmmm (Hey guys)." He waves at us with smiling eyes.

"Hey Kenny, you came just in time for Valentine tomorrow." Stan said happily.

"Mmmrrh mmhrm hmmmrhmm (You think I would miss Valentines?)."

"Khenny, my best friend in the whole world!" I heard Cartman say suspiciously.

Kenny sighed and said, "Hmmmrrm mmmh (What do you want)?"

"Tell Kahl here that he's a fucking faggot for not having a date for the dance tomorrow!"

"Mmmrh rmmmhrmm (Like you have a date)?"

"Yeah, in fact I do! Kahl's the only one without one, and he was asked twice by Bebe and Tammy!"

"Mmmrhmm hmmrm mm (What the fuck is wrong with you man)."

I breathed in and out deeply. I was building up the courage for this. I told myself that when Kenny came back, that I would tell not only him, but everyone at the bus stop too (not caring whether they told anyone else or not). "I actually have a reason for that." I said calmly.

"Mmmmrhm mrhmm (What you like a girl?)"

"Actually, I'm-" I started to say before I was cut off my Stan. "Shit, man! Don't tell me your gonna say it, here!" I nodded while closing my eyes.

"Tell us what, Kahl? That you're a fucking faggot?" Cartman joked.

"Yep." I said calmly, despite the fact that my heart was racing nervously and anxiously. "Are you happy, fatass? I'm a faggot, suck it bitch!" I said staring at him, almost in a daring manner.

He just stared in shock, speechless to retort. I then felt Kenny smack my back playfully. "Mmmrhmm, mmrh (Good for you, dude)!" He encouraged.

"See, what I tell you? Kenny wouldn't mind." Stan said cheerfully, and a little relieved.

"HA! HA HA HA HA!" I heard Cartman laugh tauntingly. All three of us just look at him till I say, "What the hell is it, fatass?"

"I told you guys, Jews are fucking gay. Exhibit A." He said pointing to me.

"Then how do you explain the Jewish men populating with the Jewish women?"

"Fuck you, Kahl!" He screamed in frustration as the bus pulled over.

Today was Valentine and I didn't feel like going to the dance, but I was dragged to it by Kenny and Stan. They even brought me a change of clothes and forcefully took me there. Why would they drag me to that dance? I didn't even have a date!

"We're taking you, because we have a surprise for you!" Stan and Kenny would say when I asked them.

What kind of surprise would there be at a dance? Unless they had an incredibly handsome, tall, dark and hot gay guy waiting for me at the dance (which I immensely doubted), then there wouldn't be another reason to drag me. After they finally got me to the dance, I was shoved into a classroom my McCormick! I looked around me, no one. Why did they shove me in the class room? I looked back at the door to find Stan didn't leave with Kenny as I expected him to. He stood there smiling and staring intensively at me, which made me nervous. I walk towards the door and try to open it. I was blocked by Stan. "Let me pass, r-tard!" I yelled at him angrily. "No." He just smiled at me, which somehow made me more nervous. "Why not!" I continued to yell.

"It's a surprise." He just repeated.

"Well, we're AT the dance, shouldn't you surprise me already? And you should be with your date, Wendy, that you said will meet you at the dance."

"Wendy isn't my date, she's with someone else." He purred, getting closer. "And I _am_ with my date, _if_ he accepts me, that is." I felt my whole face turn red in heat. My heart raced and I even felt my palms sweat a bit.

"W-what?" I stuttered, embarrassed.

He wrapped his right arm around my waist and laced his left hand through my hair, cradling my head gently. He looked at me softly, intensively, and anxiously at the same time. "I've wanted this for a long time." He whispered, his lips brushing against my ear. I felt my heart lurch forward and my face heat even _more_!

"S-Stan?"

"I just never said anything, because I didn't think you were... playing for the other team. But when my dad told me that you were gay, I felt I had a chance." He nestled his nose and lips against my jaw line before softly kissing it. I could help but moan softly as my heart quivered lightly. "Well? It's your choice, Kyle."

I stood there, momentarily, in silence. Then I slowly raised my hands and arms to embrace him back. I don't know whether I was in love with Stan or not, but I wanted to find out if was. This felt good, it felt right. Then he separated his lips from my jaw line and nestled them on my lips softly. My first kiss. My very first kiss was given to me, from Stan Marsh; my best friend in the entire world. He pressed his lips to me more and more, making this kiss deeper and deeper. Pleasure over swept me and I clutched unto the collar of his nicely dressed shirt, while my other hand gripped passionately his hair. He moved his hand on my head and slipped it so it was cradling my cheek. He then slid his thumb to the corner of my lips, causing me to open my mouth slightly. He then crept his tongue inside my own mouth, intensifying the kiss even more. I acted on instinct and tried to French kiss back. Our tongues danced for long, enticing moments, until we at last separated. I tried to catch my breathe, as well did he.

"Kyle." He whispered softly and heart filled, touching our noses together gently. Then he asked, "You still wished you committed suicide?" he said grasping me tighter, as if the though had pained him. I simply shook my head, "No."

I stared at his deep blue eyes as he stared at mine, until he smiled, pressing his lips to mine gently. It only lasted moments, until he separated us and took my hand. "Well, come on, dude. Let's go to the dance." I followed willingly clutching the palm of his hand and wrapping my other hand in the back of his same hand. I couldn't help but blush in silence, as he led me to the cafeteria where the music blasted. He seemed so unashamed and so confident when we entered the cafeteria, while I seemed bashful and sheepish. We ran into Kenny, who was with another girl, who didn't even seem from our school. His eyes traveled to our intertwined hands. For a moment I thought I saw a flicker of regret flash through his eyes before they immediately closed as he approached and hugged us both.

"Congrats!" He said clearly for once, since he didn't wear his familiar orange parka with him. "I thought you two would never end up together." He teased.

I just pouted at him and said, "So you _did_ know all along, Kenny."

He laughed lightly as he spread his arm around his date (who didn't seem too bright). "Come on, Ken, let's dance." She said almost whining. He followed her to the dance floor and began to dance with her in the upbeat tune.

"You wanna dance?" Stan asked turning to me. I just looked up before I shrugged, trying to act aloof, and then I pulled his hand towards the dance floor. He just laughed and slid his hand around my waste as he pulled me closer and shifted our weight along with the rhythm.

Ten years have pasted since that day, I was now almost twenty seven. In a week it would be May 26, my birthday. I now live in San Francisco, the city that has the Golden Bridge. I came here after the University, finishing my degree in Psychology and other areas of Humanities. I debated on my senior year whether I would become a lawyer, as my father and mother wanted, or become something I wanted. Then after a year in college, I took a Philosophy class for fun, and came out with a new determination to become a psychologist. At first my parents didn't really agree, but after a while of struggle, I didn't really care what they thought anymore. I still love them to death, but I think it's time to live my own life. Stan Marsh was my first love back at that high school Valentine dance. We stayed together for five blissful years. Then I found someone else, an old friend from high school. At first I didn't want the idea of loving anyone else but Stan, but after a while, I ended up falling for that person. When I told Stan, we both cried, but I know he understood.

His last words as my boyfriend was "All I want is for you to be happy, got it?" then he kissed me deeply in the lips as a last goodbye. I moved out of the apartment we shared and got my own. I started to date the guy I fell in love with, and we've been in love ever since. I haven't seen Stan since then, but we occasionally chat throughout emails and online chat rooms. He IS still my best friend, after all these years. I am working as a psychologist here in this city, helping children and adults with any kind of issue. After dating my current lover for about two years, I moved in with him and we still live together sharing the rent. Our relationship has gotten so well that we're even engaged. Of course we'd have to go to a state that allows gay marriage.

I'm now staring at the water down at me, while standing at the sidewalk of the Golden Bridge. And to think, I was willing to die here. I owe it all to Stan Marsh, if it wasn't for him, I wouldn't be so happy as I am now. A part of me will always love him, even after all these years. It's normal for that to happen.

I light a cigarette and puff out the smoke into the air, as I continue to stare down at the waters below me.

"Kyle? Kyle Broflofski?" I hear a familiar voice call out to me. I turn my head to see Stan Marsh there.

"Stan?" I ask, surprised.

He comes up to me and embraces me in a friendly way. "Good to see you, dude! How are you and the boyfriend." He says cheerfully.

I lift my right hand to show him the engagement ring, "Getting married in October. How are you?"

"Congratulations! I'm fine, I was just walking to work, I even got a girlfriend." Stan is working as a magazine editor. He is bisexual and can date both women and men.

"How nice. I haven't talked to you for a month now, sorry. I've been too busy with a case at work about a girl who's parents are going through a divorce."

"It's fine, dude. Well, I gotta run, I can't be late because I have a press conference in fifteen minutes." He said checking his watch.

"Sure, go ahead." I smile. He looks at me curiously for a moment. "What?" I ask.

"Since when have you smoked?" he asks smiling.

I shrug, "Bad habit I gained from McCormick, I guess." I chuckle.

He just smiles and says, "Good luck with Kenny. Invite me to your wedding!" before walking away.

I wave to him goodbye. It was nice to run into him, we seem to have no hard feelings. I'm glad. Then my phone starts to ring. I smile bashfully as I see the caller ID. "Hello." I purr to the phone. "I know it's your day off, Kyle, but don't you want to spend it with your boyfriend?" he purred seductively, "I am ALL ALONE at home, and missing you. Get your hot ass here, Broflofski." He purrs again. I chuckle and say, "Coming, let me just pick up your orange parka from the laundry mat. Wait for me." Then I hang up the phone and smile. "That damn Kenny."

I open my eyes to find myself back on the light field, back to the glistening orbs of light. Back in front of the angel, with tears still streaming down my eyes. I didn't feel sad anymore, but I remembered everything that she had told me, and even the whole vision I had just seen. I wiped my tears, and looked down at my hands. The orb was gone.

"Once looking into that path, the choice you have viewed will disappear from it's tangent form into the list of choices that you can choose from." She says calmly. "Wasn't it nice? That specific path, I mean." I shake my head.

"Does that mean Stan likes me now? And even Kenny?" I ask.

"Yes, and even more people are enamored with you, though you may not notice it."

"Wow, that was something." I say, still surprised. I became a psychologist. I date Stan Marsh, my best friend. I was engaged to Kenny McCormick. It all seemed so real, yet so unreal at the same time.

"Would you like to view more paths?" she asks, braking my concentration.

"Uh, yeah. That would be fine."

"Then reach for another orb and cradle it gently." I do as she says and catch the next one pretty easily. I hold it gently in my palms.

"Which one do I end up with here?"

"The first choice you picked was Stan. It is not who you _end_ up with, but rather who you _begin_ with. You may end up with the one you begin with certain paths, and others you will not. In this specific path, you have chosen Eric Cartman, age 17." I open my eyes completely wide in chock and confusion. Maybe I didn't hear her right...

"Wait, who did you say I'd end up with?"

"Eric Theodore Cartman, age 17. Mother is Liane Cartman, father is dead. Half brother is Scott Tenorman, Eric's residence is South Park Colorado." she states calmly.

My mouth is wide open. "Cartman? The fatass? The spoiled, double chinned, foul-mouthed, mean-spirited, selfish, racist, and ill-tempered fatass, Eric Cartman? I fall in _love_ with him?" I ask disgusted and sarcastically.

"Well in this particular path, yes."

I reach my hands containing the orb and put it in front of her. "Take it; I don't want to see this path."

"Oh, but you must view a path once coming in contact with it, and this particular path isn't as unpleasant as you could expect it to be. In fact, I believe you will perhaps enjoy it a bit."

I growl impatiently and angrily. "NO FUCKING WAY! I'm **NOT** looking at this crap! How the **HELL** can it even be remotely possible to end up, or even begin with that _disgusting_ fatass?"

"Just close your eyes and put the orb near your heart, as you did before." She said, ignoring me.

I growl bitterly and do as I am told. I wake up in the same way I did last time.


	3. Casualties in Love War II

I head down the stairs after taking a shower and getting dress. I look ahead towards the living room and kitchen. No one seems to be there, my mother is probably on bed, refusing to make breakfast for her gay son. My father is at work, probably defending or persecuting someone in court this minute. My brother is still in England as an exchange student. He went just to get away from me, he even said so himself. I guess my sexuality preference bothers my family that much. At least my father isn't as dramatic as my little brother and controlling mother; still, he has been avoiding me ever since I came out. I was so afraid of telling anybody else, that I refrained from telling my friends, or anybody at school. Including my best friend Stan Marsh, whom I've been best friends with since even before preschool. He noticed that I have been hiding something from him, and after trying to pry it out of me, we got into a fight, he told me he never wanted to see me again. Worst of all Kenny seems to be dying more often for some reason, and Cartman is bullying me more and more than ever before. Despite all that crap and shit, I still feel hopeful today, I don't know why. Especially since I was considering suicide for the past two weeks.

I just head my direction to the kitchen and reach to the inside of the cupboard for a slice of bread. I head out the door with my house keys at hand and the slice of bread hanging out of my mouth. Stan is still angry at me, he'll probably never want to talk to me again. Kenny's probably dead from yesterday where he fell into a construction site and died instantly. Cartman's... well I don't really care anyways. I decide to head out to the bus stop, despite my fight with Stan. I need to be more brave. So I head to the direction I usually walk to. As I approach the already melting snow, I see Stan talking with Cartman. I approach closer and closer, until I see that Stan notices me. I wave sheepishly to him, ignoring Cartman. He just glares at me before storming off bitterly mumbling the words, "I'm going the long way." I sigh and stand next to the fatass.

"You guys are still pissy?" He teases.

"Fuck you, fatass." I pout.

"FUCK YOU YOU FUCKING JEW RAT!" he screams angrily.

"For once, I don't feel like fighting, fatass. I'm in a good mood today, so piss off." I say calmly.

There was an awkward silence, that didn't bother me much, but seemed to bother him. "So your Jew ass got a date for the Valentine dance?" he asks, suddenly interested. This catches my attention. Why does he give a damn? He only cares about his own self interest.

"Why do you give a damn?" I ask suspiciously.

"Fuck you, Kahl. I was just trying to make conversation."

"In that case, not really. You?"

"Not yet, but this girl asked me. So I might say yes." He brags obliviously.

I look at him with disgust, and most of all shock. "A girl... a human, mammal girl, asked you out?"

"Fuck you, Kahl! I'm a fucking chick magnet!"

At this point, I can't help but laugh. "Yeah, keep telling yourself that, fatass."

"Fuck you. So hey, I hear your Jew mom's being especially bitchy lately." He says, trying to piss me off.

I simply shrug, "So, it has nothing to do with me." I turn to see his face, which is pure confusion, and is it my imagination, or do I see worry and concern?

"What, your mom fucked you over, or something?"

"Pretty much." I say in an aloof manner.

"This isn't fun anymore."

"What is?"

"Your not acting like yourself, your suppose to get all pissy and scream at my face like a pussy. What did your mom _do_ to you?"

"As you said, she fucked me over."

"Yeah, but how?"

"That's none of your business, fatass." I said as the bus pulled over. We both went in the bus and I sat to my usual seat, but was surprised and a bit taken back when I saw Cartman sit next to me. He grunted as he sat and I literally thought I felt the seat shift a little, and I was right since I slid into Cartman's side.

"Watch it, Jew! Don't get too close!" He whined in his annoying voice.

"Like I'm doing it on purpose, your giant fatass shifted the seat." I shouted in whisper, trying to not bug the other people around us.

"Your exaggerating, Kahl." He growled. I scoff bitterly as I try to keep my balance and slide to the far end of the bus seat next to the window. I stare at the window for a while before I hear some weird low, growling, animal-like noises. I turn then see Cartman snoring, fast asleep. I roll my eyes, annoyed. I then see the bus come around near the high school and gradually pull to a stop. I turn to wake up Cartman. I wonder if Kenny has to go through this all the time when he sits next to this fat lard of ass. I feel sorry for Kenny. I tug at his coat lightly, and he slaps my hand away, still asleep. Now I'm pissed. I smack him in the back of the head harshly and yell, "WAKE UP YOU FAT LARD OF ASS!" I notice most of the people are off the bus, so it's fine to yell.

He bumped his head to the seat in front of him, it took a lot of me to suppress a laugh. "WHAT THE FUCK WAS _THAT_ FOR!" He yelled at me.

"We're at school."

"Why didn't you wake me up like a normal person, you fucking Jew!"

"I tried, but you slapped my hand away, fatass!"

"Whatever, fuck you." He said as he got up and left the bus. I immediately felt the seat of the bus shift back to normal. "Holy shit, he's fat!" I thought to myself.

I go to homeroom, seeing that Stan is there in his seat. When he spotted me he quickly turned to the window, pretending to not see me. It was a childish thing to do. Though, it still made me feel like laughing, but I kept it in. I sat down on my regular seat, in front of Stan, and held my face with my hands as I stared at the teacher lecturing us. After class, I started to feel depressed again. So I oddly decided to skip the next period. I usually am completely against skipping, seeing as it has to do with ignoring education and disobeying the rules that are set especially for the students, but I just couldn't take any more lectures. Also all we were doing in that class today was watching an educational video about the laws of physics, which I have already seen at home in the educational channel.

I wondered where I could skip for the next period and lunch also. Despite my short breakfast, I didn't feel all that hungry. So I decided to skip to the back of the school, next to the dumpster. I usually hear that the Goth kids smoke there, but they usually go in the periods after lunch, so they shouldn't be there. I made my way towards the dumpster and when I got there, I saw Cartman sitting down on the pavement holding his legs with his arms and staring straight ahead. When I was about to turn and walk away, he turned and looked straight at me. "What do you want, Jew?" he immediately asks.

"Nothing, I came here hoping to get some peace, but ran into you." I said calmly.

"Whatever, I come nayr (here) when I'm depressed." He said, so softly, I could barely hear. I started to make my way towards him and then I sat down next to him. "Ay! Who said you could stay nayr, Kahl!"

"I did, fatass. I came here because I was depressed, too." I said laying my back sack next to me.

"Woah, your bitch of a mom really did screw you over, but I know how to get you back." He dared.

"How?" I asked curiously, and a little intrigued.

"_Weeeeeell_" He began to sing in his annoying voice. I knew exactly what came afterward, but, I frankly didn't care. If my mom decided to hate me because I'm gay, then why should I give a crap about her? "Kahl's mom, is a bitch. She's a stupid bitch..." He stopped singing noticing that I didn't seem to care. "What happened?" He asked, I noted the sincere concern on his voice. It sparked suspicion in me, but I let it slide.

"I'll tell you when you tell me why you're depressed." I said solemnly. Knowing this fatass, he wouldn't tell me shit, so I didn't have to tell him anything.

He sighed sharply, "You wouldn't understand, cause you're a fucking Jew rat, but I get depressed sometimes because I don't have a father." He said burying his lower face in his hands that were still wrapped around his legs. His eyes and forehead was still visible though.

As much as it shocked me that he would actually tell me, it shocked me more that his father's absence (after he killed him back all those years ago in elementary by feeding him and his father's wife to his half ginger brother) depressed him. "Your father?" I say, surprised.

"I told you about my problem, now spill, Jew." He demanded.

"It's a secret." I said, pouting.

"And you think what I just told you is public? I haven't even told my mother that shit, you fucking Jew! So spill, bitch!" He practically yelled.

I just covered my face with my hands, which rested on my knees. "Fine, fuck you, but you have to promise to never tell anyone. Not _even_ Stan or Kenny!" I said.

"Fine, just don't tell anyone what I told you."

I sighed sharply and swallowed my screaming nerves inside. "I'm gay, and my mother, father, _and_ brother practically shunned me. Happy, fatass?" I confessed. Then I peeked a look at his expression. He was shocked, it was just pure shock.

"You're gay?" He just asked softly.

"Yeah, yeah, go laugh at me you fucking homophobe!" I bitterly retorted.

He rested his hand on his chin and sighed while humming the sound, "Mmmmh."

"What, fatass?" I asked bashfully, still anxious since I never told anyone I was gay, outside my home.

"That was unexpected, even for a dirty Jew like you. If you told me sooner, then..."

"Then what? You'd fuck me over? Who knows what's going on inside that perverse, morbid, cynical mind of yours, and why would I fucking tell you? I have no reason to! I don't even know why I'm telling you now."

"Do you like anyone in particular?" He randomly asked, which surprised me.

"No, and like I'd tell _you_ if I did." I retorted.

He stood up and brushed himself off, then turned to face me, while I was still on the ground.

"Get up." He ordered.

"Fuck you, fatass."

"I said get the fuck up, Kahl!" He whined.

"What do you want, fatass?" I asked as I stood up, facing him.

I saw his face was red and he was staring at me angrily (or determined). Before I could ask him if he had a fever, or if he was suddenly about to pounce on me to beat me up, he grabbed my shoulders and pulled me in, pressing our lips together. My eyes immediately grew wide and I made a small noise in complaint. I tried to brake free, but the more I tried, the more he pulled me closer. Shit! My first kiss, wasted on this asshole! Why was he even kissing me? I was brought out of my thoughts as soon as he deepened the kiss more. I made an involuntary moan and opened my mouth slightly. He took that chance to deepen the kiss further and stick his tongue into my own mouth. My senses hazed and I found myself moaning anxiously as I clutched unto his jacket, pulling him closer. This so weird. It's almost as if I'm ENJOYING this. Part of me was disgusted and appalled and bewildered, while another part of me was blissful. Holy shit, this was really happening. Long, countless minutes pasted, as I found myself subconsciously kissing him back. Afterword, he reluctantly separated his face from me.

"I love you, Jew." He says in a determined fashion, having a deep blush across his face.

I, waking up from my hazed feelings, clench my teeth together and raise my hand to him. I slap him on the top of his head. "YOU FUCKING R-TARD! You say that _before_ you ambush me with a random kiss, so I have time to react, asshole!" I pout as I glare at him.

"Shut up you fucking Jew! It's my first time confessing, bitch!" he snaps back, defending himself.

I blush slightly at the word 'confessing' and just look the other direction, pouting. I seem to be pouting a lot lately.

"Well?" He asks impatiently.

"Well what, fatass?" I say pissed off, yet embarrassingly.

"You like me back or not, asswipe?"

I breathe in deeply before I answer, "I don't know..."

"Well, are you gonna think about it, Jew?" he spouts annoyed.

Something clicks inside of me. Why did Cartman love me? "I thought you were a homophobe, fatass." I say in a confused manner.

I see him blush and shift his position as he puts his hands in his jacket pocket. "Fuck you, Jew. I was obviously lying, retard." he said bashfully.

Shit, he was serious, and that kiss; it was so intense. My nerves took over me and I grabbed my book sack and ran out of there, screaming back to him, "I'll think about it." without looking back.

I ran home and decided to skip the rest of the day. Fortunately my mother wasn't home, so I just lunged myself at my warm bed, unable to comprehend what had just happened. Jesus Christ, he DID love me! What was I going to do? He's a malicious, back-stabbing, selfish, racist, egoistic asshole, but as much as I hate (and I REALLY hate) to admit it, I enjoyed that kiss. I enjoyed him telling me he loved me. I even enjoyed seeing him blush so bashfully afterword. I didn't think I loved him, but holy shit; I was attracted to that fat lard of ass!

A month had passed since that day, and after a _lot_ of thought, and a whole conflicted debate in my mind, I ended up dating him. Of course, we decided to date in secret, wanting neither Stan nor Kenny to find out. Stan and I made up as friends from our fight. He told me to never hide anything from him ever again, but I just told him that I would tell him everything that I needed to, being absolutely vague about it. He didn't seem to notice my vagueness. Stan found out I was gay, and had wanted me to tell Kenny about it. I ended up telling Kenny alone when he "revived" from his last death. Though I still felt really bad about telling neither Stan nor Kenny about my secret, fatass, boyfriend. Despite that, Cartman and I were pretty happy (even though we barely had said a sentence that _didn't _exchange some sort of insult, but I assume that would be of habit).

To my complete surprise, Cartman was a pretty dedicated boyfriend. Our dates weren't public, they were mainly me going over to his house, while his whore-of-a-mother went around with other "clients", and watching some sort of a movie. I had a date with him tonight, in fact. As much as it pains me to admit it, I actually ended up liking Cartman, so much as even debating to myself whether I loved him or not. It was so strange, here I though he had hated me all these years, but he actually had a secret crush on me. That _would_ explain a few things from our childhood. Like when he sought me out to rescue me in San Fransisco from that "smug" incident. Or the time when we proved our imaginations to be real in grade school and he imagined me (which he was obsess with our bet so much) sucking his balls. Or the times where he randomly said "I love you guys" after or before something drastic happened. When thinking back, it made so much sense.

I went to his house that evening, turning down my invitation from Stan to play video games, telling him I was feeling sorta sick. As I approached Cartman's doorsteps I held, in my hands, the movie we planned to watch. I rang the doorbell calmly, waiting for him to open up. I watched the door casually open as the fatass grinned satisfied. "Hey, Kahl." I shoved the DVD movie in his chest as I made my way in his familiar house. "Here, fatass." I said calmly, trying not to smile or smirk back. I heard him close the door as I slouched down at the couch casually. "Fuck you, Jew." He mumbled as he put in the movie in the DVD player.

"Did you make any snacks?" I asked.

"There's popcorn in the microwave and my mom left some brownies in the fridge. Get it yourself Jew rat." He said teasingly as he browsed the movie menu for the play button.

I rolled my eyes and smirk as I said, "Don't start the movie without me, Hitler-wannabe." I made my way to his kitchen as I heard him snicker when I called him Hitler-wannabe.

I saw popcorn already popped in the microwave and took it out gently (not wanting to burn myself) as I poured it in a colorful bowl. I opened the fridge and saw his mother's brownies. I unwrapped the plastic cover over the plate and brought the snacks to the living room. He was already sitting down at the couch with the control at his hand and the movie paused. We were watching Predator Vs Aliens. He picked the movie, and I happened to have it. I sat down as I gently tossed, trying to act as annoyed as possible, the plate of brownies to his lap. "Kewl." He grinned looking hungrily to his lap where the plate of brownies where.

"Careful, tubby. Don't eat the whole plate, or you'll get too excited and eat me too." I teased.

"You don't want me to eat you?" He purred closing our distance so that his face was almost brushing my cheek.

I pushed him back with one hand and tried desperately not to blush as I said, "Are we going to watch the movie or not, fatass?" I heard him snicker as he pressed play.

He wrapped one arm around my shoulders casually as he pulled me closer. I tried to act as if I didn't like it as I reluctantly rested my head against his neck and chest. By the time the baby aliens were about to emerge out of their eggs as the girl and the bad ass predator prepared to kill them, Cartman (who was already playing with my hair with his hands) closed in to brush his lips against my forehead. I felt myself blush a little as I tried to ignore it and continue watching the movie. He kissed my forehead a couple of times before I said, "Watch the movie, fatass."

"Your more interesting, Jew." He purred as he continued to kiss my forehead and play with my hair.

I felt my nervous butterflies in my stomach as his hand rested on my chin and he pulled my face upwards. He closed in our distance as he pressed his lips to mine. I didn't resist and in fact kissed him back. We continued to kiss for a few minutes, until the doorbell rang. He pulled away from me and bitterly complained, "Who the fuck is that?" I shrugged saying, "I don't know. It's your house, fatass." He got up from the couch as I contained myself from resisting him to go. He checked the hole in the door to see who it was.

"Shit! It's Marsh and Kehnny!" He loudly whispered as he turned to me.

I panicked and ran into his kitchen swiftly, pressing my back against the kitchen wall. I heard Cartman open the door and say, "What do you assholes want?"

"Hey, Cartman. We just came by to see if you knew where Kyle was." I heard Stan say casually.

"Why the fuck would I even care where that Jew rat was?" I heard Cartman lie.

"Mmmrmmh mmh hrmmmrm (I don't know, he wasn't at his house)." Kenny said.

"Well I don't know where he is. No leave me alone." Cartman retorted, defensively.

There was a moment of silence before I heard Stan ask suspiciously, "Then why is Kyle's hat on your couch?"

Shit! I left my green ushanka in his couch. I heard another moment of silence. "I stole it from Kahl as a prank." I heard Cartman lie. I couldn't help but sigh in relief.

I heard footsteps come closer; I got nervous until I heard Stan say, "Asshole, I'll give it back to Kyle when I see him." I assumed he took my hat. I heard the door close and Cartman say, "They're gone."

I sigh as I revel myself into the presence of his living room. "They took my hat." I pouted.

"Stan'll give you it when you see him, so stop bitching." He said sitting down at the couch.

I sighed and positioned my self on the couch as we were before. I laid my head in the same position as he continued to play with my hair. The movie went on with the girl and the bad ass predator killing all the aliens. I relaxed for a while, until I heard the front door open. Cartman and I turn to see who it is (hoping it was his mom), but were surprised to see it was Kenny and Stan again. This time I had no time to run, and they were staring at our position. I acted quickly and pushed myself out of Cartman's side, and then smacked him hard on the back of the head. "YOU FUCKING FATASS! _LOCK_ THE FUCKING DOOR!" I yelled.

"WELL HOW WAS I SUPPOSE TO KNOW THEY'D COME BACK, JEW!" he yelled angrily back.

I heard Kenny burst in laughter as he struggled to say, "Mmmrhmm mmh rmmhmmm hrmmrm (I just came back cause I dropped my lighter)."

"Kyle?" I heard Stan say appalled and even a little hurt.

I stand up and scold Cartman even more. "I told you this would happen, didn't I, fatass! You said, no one would find out. I told you we should have told them, but nooo. You just _had_ to keep it a secret!"

I heard Kenny wail in laughter even more than before. "Damn it, don't gloat you fucking Jew rat!" Cartman mumbled bitterly.

"I can gloat ALL I want, since I was right!" The sound of Kenny laughing started to annoy me even more, "Dammit Kenny, shut up!" I yelled impatiently.

He wiped his tears of laughter from his face and struggled to stop laughing. I saw Stan pouting and glaring at the floor on the side of him. "Mmmrhm _mmrmm_ hmmrmm (This is _beyond_ funny)!" I heard Kenny say.

I just glare at him. "Mmmrhmm moh hrmmmrmm hmmmrmm (I have no problem with this)." He said, suppressing a laugh.

"Screw you guys, I'm going to my room." I heard Cartman say as I turned to see him leave and head up to his stairs.

I lunged myself on the couch and crossed my arms, pouting. "Dammit, I _wanted_ to tell you guys." I reassured them.

"Well why didn't you?" Stan said bitterly.

"Because Cartman wanted to keep it a secret." I continued to pout as I turned off the TV.

"That's disgusting, you and _Cartman_!" He said. "I mean of all people, Cartman?"

"It's my choice." I defended.

"At least tell us how long, if _that's_ not a secret too."

"A little less than a month." I said bitterly and irritated.

"Mmmmrhmmm hmmohrmm mmr (Did he hypnotize you)?" Kenny joked as he sat next to me and wrapped his arm around me playfully. Kenny was okay with it (although it would help if he didn't laugh and tease), so why wouldn't Stan just be happy for me?

I rolled my eyes and said, "No."

I heard Stan mumble bitterly, "I can't deal with this, I'm going home." As he slammed the door closed.

"Mmmhmmrmm mm hrmmh (He's just being a pussy)." Kenny said reassuring me, and reaching for his cigarette lighter on the floor. "Mmmrhmmhmm (He'll get over it)."

"I hope so..." I said out loud

"MMHRMMH, HMMRMMH! (COME OUT, CARTMAN)!" Kenny yelled towards the ceiling.

I heard Cartman's heavy footsteps approach from up the stairs. "Whaaat!" He wined.

"Mmmrhmm hmmrmmhm (Tell me how it happened)." He said patting the couch for him to sit.

"Fuck you and your poor ass." Cartman said grumpily.

Kenny ignored the insult and continued, "Mmhmmrhmm hrmm mrmmhmm (How did you guys start dating)?"

"Just tell him so he can leave, fatass." I say embarrassed.

"Weak!" He whined, but nonetheless he sat on the couch (shifting the couch a bit).

Now its February 3, twelve years later. Yesterday was the anniversary when Eric kissed me. We are still together, even after all these years. We celebrated by him taking a day off from work and staying all day in our apartment. After high school he said he wanted to go to college off in New York. Still unsure of what I wanted to study, I followed him and we rented an apartment. Stan and I are in good terms, but he had a lot of trouble accepting me and Cartman as a couple. Regardless, we still hang out from time to time, all four of us. Eric studied business and law and became the CEO of a corporation, while I studied literature, law and humanities and now work as an author. I've written 9 best seller books and 5 of them are distributed in other countries (translated in their language, of course). We moved to a better and more luxurious apartment, which we have _all_ to ourselves. Eric has to travel today in the morning to an important business trip in Florida. He's going to stay there for about a month working like a dog on some new important project that he's been bragging about for roughly a year now.

The alarm woke me up, next to Cartman's arms. He slammed the alarm's snooze button and grumbled something incomprehensible, then went back to sleep. I shifted myself under the sheets above his face. I cupped his face with my hands and kissed him gently on the lips. When I separated, I purred softly, "Get up, fatass."

"Buut Kaaahl!" He whined like a little kid.

"Wake up, or I'm going to smack you." I purred again.

He sighed and rustled out of the blankets and sat on the edge of the bed. I positioned myself to wrap my arms (as much as I could, since he was thick) around him and I kissed his neck gently and repeatedly. He grinned maliciously and shifted his hands to wrap around my waist, pulling me unto his lap and kissing me deeply on the lips. I kissed back until we separated.

"Go or you'll be late." I purred.

"But I want to stay here, Jew." He pouted.

I released myself from his grip and walked to the center of the room collecting his clothes. Then when collected, I tossed it at him. "You've been bragging about this for a long time. Go." I assured.

"Fuck you." He purred as he took his clothes and a towel and headed for the bathroom to take a shower.

'You do.' I thought quietly to myself as I slipped on my boxers.

I put on a T-shirt and a pair of jeans as I head over to the kitchen to prepare dinner. Today's my day to cook and do the chores, yesterday was his. That's how we divided up our work. I start to fry eggs and put toast in the toaster. I pour two glasses of milk and serve food for two. I place the breakfast on the table as he comes out of the shower. He has on a suit and his hair is well-combed. He is carrying his luggage with him on one hand, while a coat in the other. He sets both on one side near the couch. Then he sits on the table and starts to eat.

"Does it taste good?" I ask curiously.

"Yeah yeah, the Jew can cook." He teases.

I chuckle and start to eat as well. When we are both finished we head over to our Mercedes and put the luggage in the truck as we childishly argue who's going to drive. Cartman won this time, giving the fact that this is going to be the last time he'll drive the car for the next month. So he drives to the airport while we tease each other and talk. When we arrive he stops in the parking lot.

"What are you waiting for, fatass?" I ask.

"I'm taking you with me, Jew, whether you like it or not." He says pouting in a tantrum.

I chuckle, "I don't have a ticket and they won't let me in, r-tard." I remind him.

"That's why I devised a plan where you get stuffed in my luggage." He exclaims in a silly manner.

"You're such a retard, fatass." I tease.

He sighs, "I don't want to leave." He says seriously, "I have a bad feeling about this."

I now get a bit concerned. "Don't worry; you're going to do well. Just stop chin up, fatass." I assure smiling with my hand on his back.

He leans to kiss me and then opens the car door and we gather his luggage. We head over to the airport and then we stop to the entrance where he is supposed to go in. I lean over to kiss him deeply and he holds me for a while. "I'm going to miss your fat ass." I say embracing him. "I'll miss your sneaky Jew ass." he teases longingly. Then he heads inside the airport waving back, while I wave back with an assuring smile.

A month has passed and I'm supposed to meet Eric in the airport today. We've talked every night on the phone and send occasional emails to each other. His business trip was a complete success and everything is going perfectly fine. I wait anxiously till 6:00 PM, when I'm supposed to pick him up. I haven't heard from him since Friday and today is Sunday. To be honest, I'm a bit worried. Finally when its 5:00 PM I head out for the door, already dressed and ready, with the car keys in my hand. I'm worried, anxious, yet completely and absolutely excited to see him. As I open the door I almost run into a man in a police uniform.

"Oh, excuse me." I say politely.

"Um, are you Kyle Broflofski?" He asks, looking grim.

"Uh, yeah. Is there a problem, officer?" I ask a bit concerned and worried. What the hell did I do?

"I have news regarding your roommate Eric Cartman." He says with regret and pity in his eyes and voice.

My heart lurches a bit when he mentions Eric. "Did something happen to him? What did he do?" I ask, obviously worried.

"I am deeply sorry to inform you that Eric Cartman passed away yesterday afternoon in a car accident in Miami Florida. The car turned over completely when it was hit by a drunk driver. Both the driver and Eric Cartman passed away. The car exploded immediately and he was killed instantly by impact. I am VERY sorry to inform you such grim news." He says.

I just stand there, unable to process the information that I had just heard. The whole earth felt as if it stood still and was spinning at the same time. I noticed I was holding my breathe and even my heart had skipped a beat. Before I could even think, my legs lost strength and I slumped on my knees, catching myself with my palms pressed against the cold marble floor. Tears started to blur my eyes, and I grit my teeth. "God, no!" I said hoarsely, choking back a sob. The police man started to kneel to my level as he patted my back. "I'm sorry." He said trying to calm me down. I faced him and slapped his hand back. "You're LYING! Cartman was suppose to come back today! He can't be dead, he just can't..." I yelled stubbornly. The police man sighed and walked away.

After I heard the elevator door close as he left, I wiped my tears and trudged inside the apartment room. I immediately went for my cell phone in my pocket. I searched for his number in my contacts anxiously. I pressed the call button and waited while hearing the phone ring, I tried to calm my self down from the sobs that broke through every once in a while. After calling five times, I decided to leave a message.

"God, please pick up, Eric! Tell me it's a lie, tell me it's a just a cruel joke! God no, you can't leave me! PICK UP, FATASS! YOU CAN'T FUCKING LEAVE ME!" I screamed into the phone like an idiot, knowing he wouldn't pick up. "I LOVE YOU! Please, God, please, don't die on me!" I said wailing now. "Please pick up! Eric... Eric, don't leave..." I cried softly and pathetically in the phone.

I dropped the phone once I heard the beep signaling the end of the message. I fell to my knees and wept and wailed. God, why? Damn it! Not Eric! Jesus Christ, not Eric! He just can't die. He's not _allowed_! He can't just leave me all alone. That ASSHOLE! He can't just leave me like this! No, I'll never see him again. I'll never kiss him again; I'll never embrace him again! He's not coming back this time. All these years, ever since I could remember, he was always the one who never seemed like he would just die so young. We'll never fight; I'll never hear his voice again. He's gone... forever!

After five long, painful days, which spread out to an eternity, the funeral came. His mother came weeping, Stan and Kenny came. Butters came, and even my parents came. Co-workers of his came. I didn't want to go, but I came anyways. I guess I didn't want to accept he was dead. If I went to the funeral, then it would be official that he died. I haven't cried since I heard the news. I kept it all inside, in fact, I felt numb. Completely numb. I didn't feel like sleeping or eating or talking, not even breathing. Stan and Kenny came immediately after hearing the news. They came to my apartment, Eric's apartment, to help comfort me. They'd been really worried, but I didn't care. I just wanted to wallow in my own misery.

Finally they had convinced me to go to the funeral and helped dressed me, since I was too depressed to. I wore a black suit and black pressed shoes. I stared down at the ground the whole time at the funeral. Not one tear shed from my eyes. Not one word I spoke the whole time. When everyone finally went home, I stayed, staring at the grave where he was buried in. I had a bouquet of white lilies in my hands. I started to kneel to place the flowers on the cold grave. When I stood up again, I felt someone's arm around me. I turned grimly to see it was Kenny's. He stared sadly at the grave.

"I always thought he was an asshole. He was uncaring and selfish, malicious, ill-tempered, and racist, but one of our best friends as a child. When I die, I always come back, but..." he cut off, unable to finish the sentence. He turned to me sadly, "This must have been really hard on you, Kyle."

I noticed tears starting to well up in my eyes and when Kenny noticed he pulled my face to his chest to comfort me. It started to rain, but I didn't care. I just cried and sobbed on my friend's chest.

"It's my fault, Kenny! He said he had a bad feeling, that he didn't want to go! B-but I told him to go, that everything would be fine! I should have kept him from going!" I wept.

"How could you know? It's no one's fault except the other driver. Cartman just was there at the wrong time and place."

"I-I miss him!" I struggled to say.

"I know, Kyle." He said rubbing my back comfortingly.

God dammit, Cartman...

I open my eyes to find myself back on the light field, back to the glistening orbs of light. Back in front of the angel. I notice new, unsettled tears streaming down my face. The orb was long dispersed and I let my arms fall to my side.

"Jesus Christ." I just said softly.

"Once looking into that path, the choice you have viewed will disappear from its tangent form into the list of choices that you can choose from." She says calmly. "Would you like to move on to the next?"

I just look up at her, "I thought you said I would enjoy this path." I ask still shook up from what I had just witnessed through the orb.

I wipe my tears as she says, "In the beginning, yes, but in the end, that is the future that will happen."

"I like the first path better." I said.

"I figured. Reach for another orb and cradle it gently."

I do as she says, still exhausted from the emotional drainage of what I just saw.

As I cradle the light of warm orb, she starts to talk. "The first choice you picked was Stan Marsh. The second choice you picked was Eric Cartman. It is not who you _end_ up with, but rather who you _begin _with. You may end up with the one you begin with certain paths, and others you will not. In this specific path, you have chosen Tweek Tweak, age 17."

I sigh, "Why am I not surprised." I say. I mean after having the possibility of ending up with Eric Cartman, I guess nothing could surprise me at this point.

"Just close your eyes and put the orb near your heart, as you did before." She said calmly.

I do as she says and open my eyes to the ceiling of my bedroom.


	4. Jewish Paranoia

I head down the stairs after taking a shower and getting dress. I look ahead towards the living room and kitchen. No one seems to be there, my mother is probably on bed, refusing to make breakfast for her gay son. My father is at work, probably defending or persecuting someone in court this minute. My brother is still in England as an exchange student. He went just to get away from me, he even said so himself. I guess my sexuality preference bothers my family that much. At least my father isn't as dramatic as my little brother and controlling mother; still, he has been avoiding me ever since I came out. I was so afraid of telling anybody else, that I refrained from telling my friends, or anybody at school. Including my best friend Stan Marsh, whom I've been best friends with since even before preschool. He noticed that I have been hiding something from him, and after trying to pry it out of me, we got into a fight, he told me he never wanted to see me again. Worst of all Kenny seems to be dying more often for some reason, and Cartman is bullying me more and more than ever before. Despite all that crap and shit, I still feel hopeful today, I don't know why. Especially since I was considering suicide for the past two weeks.

I just head my direction to the kitchen and reach to the inside of the cupboard for a slice of bread. I head out the door with my house keys at hand and the slice of bread hanging out of my mouth. Stan is still angry at me, he'll probably never want to talk to me again. Kenny's probably dead from yesterday where he fell into a construction site and died instantly. Cartman's... well I don't really care anyways. When I step out of the familiar doors, I see the melting snow. The snow is just starting to melt away as winter is fading into spring. Although here in South Park, spring is considered a warm fall, where one wears light sweaters.

I check my back sack as I struggle to keep the falling bread hanging in my mouth. I always check it twice at home, once before entering school, just in case I forget any homework or projects, or anything else. Good, all my homework is in check and all my notes are well kept. As I started to walk to the bus stop, for some odd reason, I didn't feel like attending school. I had a strong urge to skip. No, shut up, Kyle! Don't even think it! Skipping isn't the right thing to do; just because your friends do it sometimes, doesn't mean you should. I usually am completely against skipping, seeing as it has to do with ignoring education and disobeying the rules that are set especially for the students, but in the end I gave in to my urge.

I decided to call in sick, and go some place isolated and calm. Stark's Pond. As I approach the pond where I decided to stay during my sudden skipping session, I notice a familiar figure. As I approach closer and closer I notice the figure is a boy, with blond short hair. Moving closer, out of curiosity, the I notice the figure shaking erratically. "Is that Tweek?" I think calmly to myself. He didn't seem to notice me as I came a little closer. Then I saw tears running down his face, and his wide hazel eyes widened even more. He clutched his poorly buttoned shirt as he whispered incomprehensible words that almost seemed as a prayer. His feet where in the edge of the pond soaked as his socks and shoes where spread out the melting snow. The bottom of his jeans where rolled up and his ankles and wrists where tied up with some kind of thin rope.

After praying words that sounded like, "May God take mercy on me." he began to fall forwards at will at the deep end of the pond. Shit, was he trying to kill himself! By sheer instinct I ran to him as he fell into the cold waters. As I ran to him I took off my jacket and sweater and threw my green ushanka in the other direction. I jumped in the freezing waters. I saw Tweek struggling less and less until he stopped to struggle and closed his eyes slowly. That's when I caught him in my arms. I took his small fragile body and started to carry him upwards as I swam, desperate for oxygen. When I reached the surface, I gasped sharply for air, still holding the unconscious Tweek in my arms. I began to swim to the edge of the pond, holding Tweek in one hand, while breaking the icy waters with my other hands.

When reaching the edge, I lunged Tweek's small body forwards to the melting snow. His body collapsed there as I tried to get out of waters. When panting on the snowy, wet, ground, I shivered violently from the affect of the icy waters. Ignoring my violent shivers I turned to Tweek. I untied his hands and feet from the knots of the thin ropes he seemed to tie himself. I took community classes for CPR during last summer, so I had confidence to perform it at dangerous times, much like this one. I quickly positioned Tweeks body facing towards the sky. I opened his mouth carefully and pressed my lips unto his as I blew a large gulp of air into him. When I separated from him to look at his reaction, he still remained still. Worryingly, I quickly unbuttoned his coat and shirt, exposing his bare skin. Then I positioned my hands 1½ to 2 inches, right between the nipples. Then I pushed swiftly thirty times on his chest, hoping for a reaction. Suddenly, around the 20th pump, he took a large and sharp breathe of air and began to cough, spitting out water from his body.

I took a relieved sigh as he struggled, coughing. He opened his eyes and stared at the snow besides him. Then his eyes swiftly opened wide as he normally had them. He turned to me with a confused and scared face. "K-Kyle!" He asked almost crying.

I nodded quickly, still violently shaking. "Y-yeah, I s-s-saved you." I said stuttering from the icy effects.

He just stared at me, almost pissed. "GAH! What! Why?" He screamed.

Before I had a chance to answer, I felt myself gradually get dizzier, until I immediately felt a painful thud on my head as I met the snowy ground, falling unconscious. Everything was black and dark, until, just as quickly, I felt my eyes open. I found myself staring at the ceiling of a bed room, but it wasn't mine. I tried to sit up, which apparently I was on a bed, but felt a sharp pain in my head. I immediately held my throbbing forehead in my hands.

"You, nngh, hit your head when you f-fainted." I heard Tweek say from the other side of the room.

I turn to see him tugging at his shirt and holding a bucket of water. He seemed concerned and angry at me at the same time. "Where am I?" I asked curious.

"M-my room." He said placing the bucket of water on the ground and reaching for a wet piece of cloth and dipping it in the bucket of water. "It's, nngh, hot. The w-water." He said, placing the wet piece of cloth on my forehead as he gently let me down on his bed.

"Last thing I remember, was you on the ground." I said, trying to ignore the painful throbbing in my head.

"D-do you want Motrin, nngh, for the h-headache?" He said, ignoring my statement. He went away downstairs, before I could even answer. I looked around the room, searching for my jacket and hat. Then I saw them placed neatly on the edge of a desk chair in the far end of the room. I heard anxious footsteps approach the room before the door swung open. Tweek swiftly approached me with a glass of water and a blue, liquid pill. "H-here." He said handing me both. I accepted them and swallowed the pill easily. I held the wet piece of cloth on my head as I struggled to get up.

"Why were you trying to kill yourself?" I said, simply and straightforward.

He flinched when I asked the question before mumbling bitterly, "That's none of, nngh, your business."

"I DID save you." I reminded him.

"You wouldn't, ACK, understand." He said rather loudly, glaring at me.

"You know," I said positioning myself so that I could face him while sitting up in the bed, "I was thinking of killing myself for two weeks now." I confess.

He looked at me surprised and in disbelief. "GAH! You?"

I nodded my head, "So why did you want to kill yourself?" I asked again.

He just stared down at the floor for a few minutes before telling me, "What would YOU, nngh, do if you were a g-gay, twitchy, GAH, paranoiac, f-freak?"

"Your not a freak." I pouted defensively.

"W-what do, nngh, you know!" He snapped.

"I never thought of you as a freak, Tweek. Your twitchy, yeah, but I couldn't imagine you another way." I said, trying to assure him.

"W-well at least your not, nngh, gay." He protested.

"Yes, I am." I confess sheepishly.

"W-what, nngh, NO YOU'RE NOT!" He screams.

"Uh, I am. My parents and brother practically shunned me." I admit.

"ACK! Really! Well, did the guy you, nngh, love reject you!" He dared (almost competitively).

"You love someone?" I asked curiously.

"C-Craig..." he confessed bashfully.

"Craig! Craig Tucker! How did he reject you?"

"H-he, nngh, flipped me off. Then he, ACK, made out with a random, nngh, girl in f-front of me." He said, tears welling up in his eyes.

I pouted. "Well, he IS an asshole." I remind him.

He wipes tears from his eyes with the back of his sleeves. "H-how were you, nngh, going to k-kill yourself?" He asked, trying to change the subject.

"I was thinking of running away to a city with a tall bridge, then jumping from it." I confessed.

"GAH! That was better than my, nngh, idea!"

I chuckled lightly.

"W-what!" He glared at me harshly.

"It was a good idea, Stark's Pond, I mean."

There were minutes of silence before Tweek broke it. "H-have you ever, nngh, kissed a boy?"

I felt myself blush deeply from the thought. "W-what! No!"

There were more minutes of silence. "Do you, nngh, want to?" He asked sheepishly.

"What! You mean you!"

"I always wondered, nngh, how it f-felt like." He admitted embarrassed.

"Are you sure?"

"Y-yeah."

I thought about it for a while. Part of me was reluctant, mainly because even though Tweek became Kenny's replacement when we were in grade school, I still didn't know him well. Yet, part of me wanted to, mainly because I wondered how it felt too.

"Uh, sure." I finally decided.

Before I could react, Tweek clutched at my shirt and pulled me in, pressing our lips together. My eyes were wide open, but gradually closed as I gave into this feeling. I rested my hands on his cheeks, cupping them. Then he wrapped his arms around my torso eagerly. His lips were soft, and for once he didn't seem to twitch. He grabbed unto the back of my shirt tightly as he got even closer. I couldn't help but moan involuntarily (as did he), opening my mouth only slightly. He took this chance to pour his tongue into my mouth. He made his way unto my lap as my right hand laced into his wild, unmanageable hair while my left arm wrapped around his neck, pulling him even closer. How did things get so heated, so fast? It felt so good to wrap myself around his fragile body.

He pulled me out of my thoughts as he trailed his kisses down from my mouth to my jawline and to my neck. I let out an eager moan as his tongue and lips explored my bare neck. He pushed me back, making me fall on my back unto the bed. He was on top of me while I had my arms around his neck. I nestled my nose and lips in the space between his hair and neck. He made anxious sounds as his lips trailed to the lobe of my ear. As he began to nibble my ear enticingly, my lips latched unto his neck taking a mind of it's own as I trailed eager kisses at him. Moments afterwords, he separated us only to press our lips back together. Our tongues immediately danced eagerly in the cavern of our mouth. After, for what seemed forever, we separated, but leaving the distance between us still so close that our lips brushed against each other at the slightest movement. We were heavily breathing, just staying in that position for moments.

Gradually his eyes started to widen to his original size, and my hazy senses were slowly regaining. Then he back away from me at a distance. "GAH! Jesus Christ, I'm, nngh, s-sorry!" He said, tears welling up in his eyes.

He was still on top of me, but the distance between our faces where widely separated. "Uh, that's ok." Was all I could end up saying.

He quickly stumbled off of me (almost tripping along the way), and he stood on the wooden floor. "ACK, I t-think it's best if you, nngh, leave." He said nervously.

I stumbled awkwardly unto my feet. "I think so too." I said anxiously as I trudged nervously out of the room and down the stairs. It seems the pill had taken effect long ago, because my head wasn't aching and throbbing as before. I walked out the front door nervously.

It has been less than two weeks since that day. Stan and I made up as friends, and he made me promise to never keep things from him again. Despite that, I never told him about my kiss with Tweek, or that Tweek wanted to kill himself. Though I DID tell him that I was thinking of suicide, and he told me to never, under any circumstances, commit suicide. He also told me that I should have told Kenny that I was gay, so after his "revival" from his last death, I told him privately. Things have been going well since then, except for the fact that I cannot stop thinking about Tweek. When I'm alone or am not preoccupied, my thoughts tend to trail to him. It's gotten so bad to the point where I even dream of him! I don't know what to do, I can't seem to stop thinking about him and that kiss we shared. I think that I'm falling in love with Tweek Tweak.

Today is Valentines and there is a school dance taking place. I didn't feel like going, especially if I didn't have a date. I wasn't even sure I wanted to go with anyone besides Tweek. Despite that, I was dragged into the dance by both Stan and Kenny! They came barging into my room and forced me to dress up nicely. Whenever I asked why they were taking me to the dance, they would always say that it was a surprise.

After they finally got me to the dance, I was shoved into a classroom my McCormick! I looked around me, no one. Why did they shove me in the class room. I looked back at the door to find Stan didn't leave with Kenny as I expected him to. He stood there smiling and staring intensively at me, which made me nervous. I walk towards the door and try to open it. I was blocked by Stan. "Let me pass, r-tard!" I yelled at him angrily. "No." He just smiled at me, which somehow made me more nervous. "Why not!" I continued to yell.

"It's a surprise." He just repeated.

"Well, we're AT the dance, shouldn't you surprise me already? And you should be with your date, Wendy, that you said will meet you at the dance."

"Wendy isn't my date, she's with someone else." He purred, getting closer. "And I AM with my date, IF he accepts me, that is." I tensed up when he moved only inches away from me.

"W-what?" I stuttered, confused.

He wrapped his right arm around my waist and laced his left hand through my hair, cradling my head gently. He looked at me softly, intensively, and anxiously at the same time. "I've wanted this for a long time." He whispered, his lips brushing against my ear. Tears welled up, threatening to fall, but I held them back stubbornly.

"S-Stan?"

"I just never said anything, because I didn't think you were... playing for the other team. But when my dad told me that you were gay, I felt I had a chance." He nestled his nose and lips against my jaw line before softly kissing it. I tried ever so desperately not to let the tears stream down my face. "Well? It's your choice, Kyle." He purred.

I stood there, momentarily, in silence. I lifted my arms and placed them on his chest, trying to push him away gently. I shook my head while trying not to let any tears fall. He stared at me, shocked and hurt. "You don't want me." He said in a heart breaking voice. How could I? How could I say no? Yet, how could I say yes? It's true I love Stan, but not THAT way. He's always been my best friend, but how could I betray my own feelings like this? I'm IN love with Tweek, but for him to love me when I don't love my best friend back, it's absolutely heartbreaking.

I choked back a desperate sob, "I'm s-sorry. I'm so, so sorry."

"Is something wrong with me?" He said, holding back his own set of tears.

"No! Nothing's wrong with you, Stan!"

"Then what!" He practically screamed.

"I'm... I'm in love with someone else." I confessed, holding back tears.

"What? With who?" His tears already streaming down his cheeks.

"T-Tweek."

His face was shocked, confused, and completely hurt. "How?"

"We kissed a few days ago. It probably meant nothing to him, but I fell for him." I said, letting my desperate tears finally fall.

"You kissed him!" He yelled angrily, and hurt nonetheless.

"I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to hurt-" I was cut off by Stan.

"No, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have put you in this position." He said staring regretfully down at the ground before swiftly running out the door. I ran to the edge of the door screaming out his name desperately, until I saw Kenny standing outside. His expression was shocked, yet even a bit hurt.

"Kenny?"

"Uh, I was checking if everything went alright, for you and Stan, that is." He said nervously. Then he approached me quickly and embraced me. "Kenny what are you-" I started to say before Kenny cut me off. "I know Stan might not be 'comfortable' with all of this, but I'm glad for you. I mean, it's great that you're in love, with Tweek nonetheless! Congratulations." He assures me.

"Thanks, Kenny." I smile.

"And if Stan really loves you, he will accept it and would just want you to be happy." Then he separated me from his arms. "So what are you going to do now, Kyle?"

"I, uh... have you seen Tweek in the dance?" I ask bashfully.

"Tweek? Uh, not that I remember. Do you want me to drive you to his house?"

"What? What about your date?" I ask concerned.

"She's not too bright anyways, not worth fucking." He jokes lightly.

"Thanks again, Kenny."

"No problem." He smiles back.

Kenny drove me to Tweek's house. As I got out of his car, I waved good bye at him. Then I walked nervously towards Tweek's door steps. I took a deep breathe and rang the doorbell. I waited for a while until the door swiftly opened, by Tweek himself.

"GAH! Oh, thank God it's, nngh, you Kyle." He said relieved.

"Were you expecting someone?" I ask curiously.

"I thought you were a rapist, or a, nngh, robber, or Jesus Christ a suicide bomber!" He rambled, paranoid.

"Why would a suicide bomber come to your house." I ask, reasonably.

"It's the, GAH, government, man! They're, nngh, watching me!" He looked behind me anxiously, as if someone with a gun was lurking behind me.

"Uh, I actually came to talk to you about something."

His eyes widened larger than I ever thought they could. Tears began to well up and stream down his eyes. "Jesus Christ, my parents are, nngh, dead!"

"Wait, what! No, aren't your parents with you?"

"N-no, they're out. Jesus Christ, they, GAH, died, I just know it!" He said putting his head between his hands as he clutched his hair with his fingers.

"No, I'm pretty sure they didn't die."

"How do YOU know! Huh, you c-could be, ACK, working with the murderer! Maybe you ARE the murderer, and you, nngh, wanna do away with me too! GAH!"

"What? No, I came to talk to you about the other day in your house." I blurt out, loosing my patience.

His face immediately blushed as he retraced his thoughts back to that day. "GAH! C-come in then." He signaled for me to come in as he positioned his hand to his quivering lips while looking around us like someone was about to pounce him or something. He was so adorable.

I sat in the couch in the living room as he sat next to me. He tugged on my shirt a couple of times. "W-what?" I said, blushingly.

"Jesus Christ, just say, nngh, what you're gonna s-say!" He said desperately.

"I..." I took a deep, sharp breathe. "I think I love you." I said bluntly.

He just stared at me, absolutely shocked. "What?"

"I couldn't stop thinking about you since that day, and I don't really know what it exactly means, but it's gotten to the point where I even dream of you, and I really don't know what to do, so all I can assume is that I fell in love with you at some point of-" I rambled nervously on, until Tweek surprisingly pulled me, from my shirt, unto his lips.

I stood shocked as he wrapped his hands around my neck. Gradually, I gave in the feeling and embraced him back. He trailed his hands to my cheeks as I pulled him closer. Then he opened his mouth (as did I) and our tongues danced eagerly in the cavern of our mouths. We separated repeatedly and quickly, placing short eager kisses with our lips and tongues. I latched my hands unto his wild, unmanageable, blond hair, as he started to quickly grope my body. One of his hands slipped under my shirt and trailed eagerly up my chest. I couldn't help but let out an involuntary moan as this hazy feeling increased. He separated with a close range distance and said, "D-do you want to, nngh, go to my room?"

My eyes widened at the suggestion. "W-what? Are you sure!" I said nervously, trying to be the responsible one.

He nodded his head quickly, "Uh-huh."

I didn't have time to think before he pressed his lips to mine. I pulled him up as we separated again. "Okay." I said still wrapped up in this incredibly hazy feeling.

He tugged my arm towards him as he glided to the stairs. I quickly trudged up the stairs as he clutched to my shirt following me. When we arrived to his room he immediately tackled me, without warning, to his bed and started to shower me with kisses around my neck and chest as he unbuttoned my shirt.

"A-are you sure about this~" I said, moaning at the last word.

"Y-yes, nngh." He responded.

It has been three years since that day at Valentines. I am still living in South Park, going to the community college. I attend with Tweek, who is studying to be a middle school teacher. I'm studying to be a lawyer like my father. We both share an apartment off campus. Stan took a while to get used to the idea of dating us, but he soon came around. We still are good friends and still hang out. He eventually accepted the fact that I wouldn't love him THAT way, and he later on, after high school, found a girlfriend through college. They've been dating for about a year now, and she's really nice. She isn't originally from South Park, but moved here for college. I'm happy for him and he's happy for me. Sometimes The four of us (Stan, Kenny, Cartman, and I) hang out by the town's bar and laugh and drink.

Despite things seeming good from a spectator's view, things between me and Tweek haven't been going very well. We've been at each others throats lately. I don't even know how or when it started. He just suddenly lashes out on me for no apparent reason. When I try to get close, he pushes me away with some sort of fight. I suggested a counselor, but he refused to go. I don't know what to do, honestly. I still love him, but things are getting worse. We aren't even having sex as often anymore. In fact not at all, lately. I wonder if it's something I did or am doing. Maybe I've upset him someway. So with hopes of a truce and an apology for whatever I did, I went to the convenience store today and bought his favorite bouquet of flowers (white roses) and I even a new brand of coffee I thought he would like.

As I headed up the elevator and unto our apartment door, I separated my keys so that I could open the door quickly (old habit). As I opened the door, I drop the keys in the table next to the door and look up. Though when I looked up, I was appalled to see Tweek with swollen lips, arms around him passionately, and Craig kissing his neck. Tweek's right hand was up Craig's shirt, and his left hand was down Craig's unbuttoned pants. Tweek looked at me with complete shock, while Craig kept his lips on Tweek's neck, as if my entrance meant nothing. I felt tears well up my eyes and stream down my face, but I ignored them and grit my teeth, dropping the presents I had gotten him on the floor, and reaching for my keys. I ran out the door and towards the elevator. I heard Tweek run after me as he screamed my name, but he didn't catch up in time to stop the elevator. When I reached the lobby, I ran swiftly out the doors to my car. I saw Tweek run out of the stairs as I buckled my seat with blurry eyes. I turn on the ignition as I drove out of there before he could catch up with me.

Jesus Christ, was THIS why he had started so many fights. Here I thought I had done something wrong, but it was him! It was him! I can't believe I didn't see it. How could I be so stupid. I was pulled out of my thoughts as soon as I heard my cell phone rang. Still crying, I looked at caller ID. When I saw Tweek's number I answered and immediately hanged up, before giving him the chance to make up some lame excuse. I would understand if Craig was on him, but he was groping Craig as well. He had no other way to explain this besides admitting he was cheating on me. I pull over at Kenny's apartment, which he shares with Token and Butters. I knock on the door, wiping my tears away with the back of my hand.

Kenny answers the door with a smile, that fades as soon as he sees my face. "What happened, man?"

"T-tweek! He was fucking around with Craig." I blurted.

He opened his eyes in shock as he let me in. "Token and Butters are out, so just sit on the couch." He told me.

"And to think I was going to apologize." I start to complain.

"Apologize for what?" He asked resting his hand on my back as he comforted me.

"I-I don't know! I thought I did something wrong because he was always picking a fight with me for no reason. So I went to buy him flowers and a present, but when I came home, Craig was sucking at Tweek's neck and Tweek's hands were up his shirt and down his pants." I ranted, choking back sobs.

Kenny pulled my head into his chest as he embraced me, "What did you do then?" he asked comfortingly.

"I ran out! I know it's cowardly, but I couldn't deal with it. How could he, Kenny?" I wailed in his chest, clutching his coat.

"It's not cowardly, it's better than doing something stupid right?" He assured. "You know, I never thought Tweek was good enough for you."

I look up at him, separating us, while wiping my eyes. "Why didn't you say anything?" I joke weakly.

He just laughed, "Cause you'd hate me for it."

I shook my head, "No, you're a good friend, Kenny."

"Yeah..." He said, almost sadly.

I open my eyes to find myself back on the light field, back to the glistening orbs of light. Back in front of the angel, the orb in my hands already dispersed.

"Once looking into that path, the choice you have viewed will disappear from it's tangent form into the list of choices that you can choose from." She says calmly. "Would you like to view another path?"she asks.

I just stare at her, still overwhelmed. This whole path viewing deal, it's a complete emotional drainage. "Tweek cheats on me?" I ask, shocked.

"Yes." she says calmly.

"What happens after that? Do I get back together with him? Do we completely brake up?"

"You both do not continue romantic relationships, but you do find another." she explains.

"Well, who is it!"

"I do not wish to tell you." she smiles.

"I thought the point of all this was to view my path!" I say impatiently.

"Yes, but to a certain extent. If I reveal your whole life in each path, not only will it drain your energy almost completely, but it will effect your entire decision to an extent that the decision will fade with your choice." she states.

At this point, I grow irritated. One because of the last two paths I had just witnessed, two because of her complete calmness about everything, and three because I scarcely understood what she just said.

"Reach for another orb and cradle it gently." she says, ever so calmly.

I do as she says, still irritated.

As I cradle the light of warm orb, she begins to talk. "The first choice you picked was Stan Marsh. The second choice you picked was Eric Cartman. The third chose you picked was Tweek Tweak. It is not who you END up with, but rather who you BEGIN with. You may end up with the one you begin with certain paths, and others you will not. In this specific path, you have chosen Christophe, residence in South Park, Colorado, age 17."

"What? You mean the french kid that died when I was a kid in the Canadian war all those years ago!" I ask.

"Yes. He has been brought back recently last year." she states calmly.

"What? How! He DIED! He's not Kenny that can just COME back!"

"It was decided by the person writing this fan fiction in order to make the next chapter more interesting, by adding a french character."

"What!"

"Just close your eyes and put the orb near your heart, as you did before." She said calmly.

I reluctantly do as she says, irritated and confused. I wake up facing the ceiling of my bedroom.


	5. French Kisses

**A/N: Omg! I'm so fucking sorry! I over typed! I guess this story was building up writer block's pressure and I "over cooked" so to say, this chapter. There is like about 5,400 something words here! My usual limit is like 3, 800 or at MOST 4,000. I over did it. As Christophe would say, Sheet. I just hope you readers don't get bored or anything, or don't hate me…. or that any of you have attention disorders (like me lol). That would make me cry if any reviews had complaints on the length of this MONSTER chapter! And even this authors note is fucking adding on to it! SORRY!... again.**

I head down the stairs after taking a shower and getting dress. I look ahead towards the living room and kitchen. No one seems to be there, my mother is probably on bed, refusing to make breakfast for her gay son. My father is at work, probably defending or persecuting someone in court this minute. My brother is still in England as an exchange student. He went just to get away from me, he even said so himself. I guess my sexuality preference bothers my family that much. At least my father isn't as dramatic as my little brother and controlling mother; still, he has been avoiding me ever since I came out. I was so afraid of telling anybody else, that I refrained from telling my friends, or anybody at school. Including my best friend Stan Marsh, whom I've been best friends with since even before preschool. He noticed that I have been hiding something from him, and after trying to pry it out of me, we got into a fight, he told me he never wanted to see me again. Worst of all Kenny seems to be dying more often for some reason, and Cartman is bullying me more and more than ever before. Despite all that crap and shit, I still feel hopeful today, I don't know why. Especially since I was considering suicide for the past two weeks.

I just head my direction to the kitchen and reach to the inside of the cupboard for a slice of bread. I head out the door with my house keys at hand and the slice of bread hanging out of my mouth. Stan is still angry at me, he'll probably never want to talk to me again. Kenny's probably dead from yesterday where he fell into a construction site and died instantly. Cartman's... well I don't really care anyways. I decide to head out to the bus stop, despite my fight with Stan. I need to be more brave. So I head to the direction I usually walk to. As I approach the already melting snow, I see Stan talking with Cartman. I approach closer and closer, until I see that Stan notices me. I wave sheepishly to him, ignoring Cartman. He just glares at me before storming off bitterly mumbling the words, "I'm going the long way." I sigh and stand next to the fatass.

"You guys are still pissy?" He teases.

"Fuck you, fatass." I pout.

"FUCK YOU, YOU FUCKING JEW RAT!" he screams angrily.

"NO FUCK YOU, YOU INCONSIDERATE ASSHOLE!" I shout. Even if I'm not in the mood to fight, I somehow feel the urge to keep up pretenses.

"You can't tell me what to do! You're just a sneaky little ginger Jew from Jersery!" He spout.

Click.

"Well you're a stupid fatass who's father YOU killed and who's mother is a whore!" I shouldn't have said that. I know I went too far, but I _hate_ it when people call me Jersey. He should've seen it coming.

His face stared at me for the longest time, an expression full of rage, shock, and hurt. My insides tightened and I felt that tinge of guilt built up. The longest silence echoed through us as he turned his wounded (figuratively) face away and stared at the snow like it contained an interesting phenomenon.

The bus pulled around and that old hag screamed in us to get in. I placed my right foot on the first step and turned back to a startled Cartman, guessing he didn't expect me to turn or something. His face was red, probably from anger. For a moment I thought his eyes were containing un-fallen tears. Fuck.

"Hey Cartman, sorry. Forget about what I said." I said, smiling apologetically. He looked shock, and his face went from bright red to deep scarlet. What the fuck is wrong with that fatass?

When you do a mistake you have to be humble…. but in cases of narcissists, you can't be too humble so I wacked him across the head. "Plus it was your fault for calling me a Jersey, dumbass. Next time I'll punch you so hard that fat of yours will fly right out of you, douchebag!"

He held his head and mumbled something about sneaky Jews.

We entered the bus and I sat down in my regular seat, without Stan this time. I sighed a deep sigh because I knew that pussy was mad at me. I just hope we can somehow make up, you know. Get things back to the way they were before all this shit.

Despite that, I was surprised and a bit taken back when I saw Cartman sit next to me. He grunted as he sat and I literally thought I felt the seat shift a little, and I was right since I slid into Cartman's side.

"Watch it, Jew! Don't get too close!" He whined in his annoying voice.

"Like I'm doing it on purpose, your giant fatass shifted the seat." I shouted in whisper, trying to not bug the other people around us.

"Your exaggerating, Kahl." He growled. I scoff bitterly as I try to keep my balance and slide to the far end of the bus seat next to the window.

I started to stare at the window for a while at nothing particular, until we came to a red street light. Then I saw him. There was this teenager, no, he seemed like eighteen or even nineteen. He had dark auburn hair in a choppy style, untidy, yet rough enough to complement his sturdy features. His teeth scraped his bottom lip as he pushed down the shovel he carried into the ground. He was digging. He was white, but a bit tan from the sun and his face was marked with sweat and dirt, but I kinda have to admit it was sorta hot. His tight shirt was black and hugged his tone chest as he pulled the dirt out of the ground. He had a military print on his baggy pants and it had quite a few pockets. He had a belt that had little compartments around it, all of them full of things I didn't know. There were holes around everywhere.

The strange boy felt my eyes on him, he turned his jaw to me. I noticed on the other side of his mouth a damp cigarette was held, lingering about. I felt my face heat up, and I bit my tongue softly. My heart started to pound fiercely and it started to get unbelievably hot inside this crowded bus, yet I couldn't turn my head away. My eyes still roamed his features, drowning in each detail.

He noticed all of this and he just smirked seductively and waved in a friendly manner. My heart skipped a beat. My face turned scarlet. Shit! I felt the corners of my mouth twitch awkwardly and I unconsciously started to wave back. He started to laugh from a distance, I couldn't hear him well. Then before the bus started to move again as the light turned green, I swore I saw him blow me a kiss.

I covered my mouth in astonishment and stared in front of me when I lost sight of him. I had never felt so embarrassed, and aroused at the same time. I clutched my heart and tried to catch the breathe I didn't even know was stolen. How bizarre! Yet, I couldn't stop imagining his face, his tone chest, his…

My thoughts were interrupted by some weird low, growling, animal-like noises. I turn then see Cartman snoring, fast asleep. I roll my eyes, annoyed (somehow awaken from my odd spell). I then see the bus come around near the high school and gradually pull to a stop. I turn to wake up Cartman. I wonder if Kenny has to go through this all the time when he sits next to this fat lard of ass. I feel sorry for Kenny. I tug at his coat lightly, and he slaps my hand away, still asleep. Now I'm pissed. I smack him in the back of the head harshly and yell, "WAKE UP YOU FAT LARD OF ASS!" I notice most of the people are off the bus, so it's fine to yell.

He bumped his head to the seat in front of him, it took a lot of me to suppress a laugh. "WHAT THE FUCK WAS _THAT_ FOR!" He yelled at me.

"We're at school."

"Why didn't you wake me up like a normal person, you fucking Jew!"

"I tried, but you slapped my hand away, fatass!"

"Whatever, fuck you." He said as he got up and left the bus. I immediately felt the seat of the bus shift back to normal. "Holy shit, he's fat!" I thought to myself.

When I reach my homeroom I sit down quietly, in absolute relief that Stan isn't here yet. Maybe he was sick, maybe he is skipping. No I shouldn't be relieved if he's sick, and I should be concerned if he's skipping. Despite our argument, last week, I still am worried about Stan. I wake up from my jumbled thoughts as I see the subject of worry walk in the door. He ignores me as he walks past my desk and sits behind me. I stare sheepishly at my desk before the bell rings.

After an awkward experience in homeroom and also the period after that, the bell finally rings, signaling lunch. Hungry as I am (especially since all I had was a slice of bread for breakfast) I am surprisingly ambushed by Stan as soon as I stepped out of class. He drags me mercilessly by the arm to an unknown location.

"Ah, S-Stan! Where are you-" I tried to ask before I was interrupted by him.  
A cruel, harsh, pissed, and almost hurt tone escaped from him as he said, "Shut up, I'm settling this now."

Realizing now where I was being dragged to, which was the back of the school next to the dumpster, I swallowed hard. He was going to beat the shit out of me, till I told him what I was hiding from him. My secret, that I'm gay! Before another thought slipped my mind, he tossed me fiercely to the wall of the dumpster, echoing a metallic thud. My back throbbed in pain as I caught myself from falling on my face. His hand gripped my neon orange jacket and pulled me up, forcing me to stand straight. I flinched when I opened my eyes, finding him barely an inch from my face.

"What the FUCK is wrong with you! Why didn't you tell me? Your best friend!" he screamed, pounding his warm breathe to my face, still very close in distance from me.

"T-tell you what?" I asked. Could it be? Did he find out I was gay?

"God dammit, Kyle! Don't play fucking dumb with me! I heard from my dad, who was told by your dad in confidence."

I felt tears well up, but I forced them from falling. "What d-did he tell you?"

"I get why you didn't tell anyone else, but why not me? Did you think I was going to shun you when I found out you were gay?" He practically screamed, a hurt expression spreading throughout his face.

I felt the tears stream down. Shit, I couldn't keep them down. I sucked in the urge to break out into a sob, before speaking. "I... I'm s-sorry." I bowed my head in absolute shame, my early morning good mood dispersed.

He loosened his grip on my jacket and pulled me into his embrace, to my surprise. "God dammit, Kyle. I don't give a damn if you're straight, gay, or bisexual. Just stop hiding shit from me." He gave me a tight squeeze before I broke into sobs in his chest. "I'm s-so sorry!" I blurted oddly through my choked sobs.

"It's fine, just promise that you'll never keep something secret from me again. Dude, I thought you were hiding something big, not something like this."

"This isn't big?" I struggled to say, trying to calm myself down.

"No, I told you, gay or not, you're still my best friend." he reassured me before pulling me back.

He had a comforting smile on his face as he put his large hand on the top of my head. "Come on, dude. Calm down before we go back inside." I wipe my tears quickly, regaining my good mood.

We head back inside the hallway, instead of the cafeteria. "Hey, Stan. Thank you." I smiled weakly at him when we stopped in front of our lockers.

"For what?"

"I was feeling down for the past few weeks. My mom doesn't even accept me, and my brother was even more embarrassed of me when he heard in England. My dad has been avoiding me, I just thought that you-"

"That I would do the same?" He sighed as he sat on the ground, his back to the lockers. I followed after him, sitting besides him. "No, dude. I'm not your parents, or your brother. I wouldn't just shun you like they do."

I smiled thankfully to myself in those words. Looks like I do have someone who cares.

"Come on, let's get to class before we turn out late." He said as he led me to our next class. Right then and there I promised to never keep any secrets from Stan, ever again.

Today was Valentine and I didn't feel like going to the dance and I know that Stan and Kenny were planning to come over today to force me to take me. I heard them planning about it once. Yeah right, like I was gonna let them! I hurried to the supermarket at town, with the excuse of groceries, even though my mom didn't really care anymore, it was mostly for my dad's sake.

I told Kenny and Cartman at the bus stop the next day after the whole Stan-found-out-and-dragged-me-to-the-nearest-dumpster-to-make-me-confess-about-it ordeal. They didn't care, but Cartman seemed oddly quiet afterwards. Kenny seemed to be overjoyed about it, but I still couldn't avert my attention from those sad eyes of him afterwards.

I went to the frozen food section to get me a little somethin-somethin'. When I found a dinner that satisfied not only me, but my kosher rules, I opened the cold doors to get it. When I plopped in the store's basket and closed the freezing doors, I was startled to see someone right next to me, staring at me. I screamed slightly and tripped on my own two feet and almost fell. I shut my eyes tightly until I realized I didn't hit the ground. I opened them to find out that my hand was being held in place from falling. I looked up to my "savior" to see it was the boy from the street lights that day. The one who was digging.

"Careful zere, ju don't vunt to fall, no?" He said smirking, in a French accent.

I opened my mouth to speak, but before I could, I was pulled to my feet and he bent down to grab the groceries I didn't even know I dropped.

"Tha-thank you." I managed to say awkwardly.

"No beegie. Just helpeeng an old friend." He smiled confidently while giving me my groceries in my basket back.

I took the basket and said, "Excuse me?"

"Afteer all zis years ju still vear an orange jacket? And I could recognize that green hat anyvhere, mon amour." He said, tugging gently at my ushanka while my face brimmed in bright red.

"D-do I know you?" I asked, confused yet enchanted.

"Kyle Broflovski. Ju are ze kid who helped vith ze Canadian var. Ju held me as I died." He said calmly as it was the most natural thing in the world.

"You mean, _you_ are the mole! That French kid who hated God and guard dogs? Tha-that's impossible! You died in my hands, you shouldn't be here!"

"Jes, but I vas geeven a secune chance." He said, suddenly touching my face.

My instinct wanted to back away, but I stood still.

"So ju were the pue d'amour zat blushed deleeciously in zat bus." He grabbed my chin and pulled it a bit closer.

"I-I.." I stuttered, unable to talk, forgetting how to breathe properly.

His other hand wrapped around my back and my spine chilled pleasantly. Just then he, very quickly and all at the same time, not mention elegantly, pushed me forwards and past him with the hand around my back. Caught the basket and stole it from my hand and pulled the back of my coat gently, preventing me from falling.

"Do ju have plans tonight?" He asked.

After I regained my awareness, I answered, "N-no. Not really."

He dropped the basket in place and started walking, leading me with him by pulling my hand with his. "Zen ve will have some des moments de plaisir." He said with a seductive tone laying beneath it's meaning.

"Des moments de pla-what?" I asked confused.

"Sume foon times." He cocked his head back a bit, enough to let me see him wink.

Did he just say, 'some fun times'? I gulped at whatever that meant.

We got out of the supermarket and he led me to his weird foreign looking car.

"Zis iz a French Arola 1976-1983 edeetion. It iz, how ju say, rare." He said, bragging in an arrogant fashion. "Vant to come with me, chéri?"

"Uh, I don't know if I should…" I started to say until I thought, mom and dad doesn't care anymore. My friends are busy at the party. Who cares if I left my cell phone? Who cares if I can or can't trust this guy? I _want_ to go with him. "Ok."

He smiled almost wickedly. I had to hold back a moan from that somehow delicious smile. I think he noticed this, because he stepped in closer and wrapped his arms around me. I blushed deep scarlet and my heart raced.

His face was barely an inch from mine. His auburn eyes stared into my enticed emerald ones and he just grinned mischievously and said, "Ne pas avoir peur de toucher." In the most gentle and enchanting way I've heard yet. I didn't even care what he said or meant at the moment. Before I had another thought cross my mind, he closed the distance between us and locked our lips.

I sunk in the feeling, drowning in the rough and textured scent of him. His lips pulling back and forth against mine. Once I had caught the rhythm of it all, my lips performed willingly. Open and close, open and close. Wet, yet passionate. His hand grasped my hair and his other hand tightened at my waist. I clutched his brown leather coat and my head cocked back in pleasure, never separating our lips.

Suddenly, it ended. He turned around and pulled out his keys from his pants, letting a very confused and still enchanted Jew go. His car beeped twice and he opened the passenger's door smoothly.

"Ve musn't waste ze nuit des jeune." He said signaling my entrance to his car.

I slid in the passenger's seat as he closed it and went around to the driver's seat. As he sat down and buckled his seat belt, I started to ask, "What does nuit des jue, or whatever you said mean?"

"Nuit des jeune. I joost said, yooth of ze night. Like let us nut waste ze youth of ze night." He said as he drove out of the parking lot.

After a while of silent driving I asked, "So where are we going?"

"Ver do ju vant to go?" He smiled seductively at me.

I blushed furiously and turned my face away to the window and just said, "Uh, I don't know, you pick."

I heard him sigh as he said, "How deed ju get zo adorable?" Before I could even think of an answer (since I think I went past my blushing limit) he continued talking. "I vill give ju trois options."

"Trois meaning three right." I asked.

"Oui, chéri. Une, ve can go to ze club. Zough ju don't seem like ze club type. Duex, ve can go to ze pond. Or trois , ve can go to my house." He smiled daringly at the last one, and I just stared at him as my blush grew.

After a few moments, I looked back out the window and said, "S-stark's pond is fine."

He laughed dreamingly as he drove, changing our direction. Oh my, what the fuck did I get myself into? A gorgeous French man is taking me out after he kissed me in his rare French car from the 80's, and it seems to me that he wants more than just a kiss. God dammit. Why didn't I let Stan and Kenny take me? Then again, my logic is telling me it's wrong, that I should feel scared and guilty. Despite that, I feel excited, nervous, aroused, and hopeful all at once. I know I should, but I don't regret coming with him at all. In fact, I wouldn't mind the outcome of tonight, whatever it may be.

He pulled us to a stop at Stark's pond. He got out of the car and started to walk towards my door. I opened it before he could, I didn't want to be treated like some girl or something. I'm still a guy, no chivalry is needed here. I got out of the car and closed the door. He looked at me with an amused face. I suddenly felt self-conscious.

"What?" I asked, blushing.

"Notheeng. Ju just seem to be getteeng mieux and mieux interesteeng." He said cocking his head back, signaling me to follow him.

I blushed and ran to his side. I didn't want to follow him. I'm a guy for fuck's sake; I refuse to be treated like some girl. I may be gay, but I feel like some damn uke or something. "Mieux?" I asked.

"More." He answered. I guess that was what it meant. We stopped in front of the log near the water. He sat on the snow next to the log and looked up at me smiling deviously.

"W-what?" I asked.

He just patted his lap, motioning for me to sit on him.

I furrowed my brow. "I am _not_ sitting on your lap." I sat besides him. "I'm not some girl, ya know!" I pouted while crossing my arms.

"Sitteeng on someone's lap does nut mean ju are ze girl." He said as he suddenly sat on mine.

"Wha-what are you…?" I was interrupted by his lips on mine.

That sweet smell of burning honey enveloped my nostrils. The taste of cigarettes and sweet pastels drowned my tongue in ecstasy. His chapped, yet soft lips on mine. Wet and passionate as before, but more hungry than I've ever felt. Cupping, no, clutching my face with his hands. My arms around his toned chest and back.

Whipping tongues, seething teeth, hungry moans, angry nibbles. This desperate pulling, clutching clothes, then skin. Snow on back, warmth on front. Sweet words I do not understand. Wet hickeys and lost actions. Such a bitter pain, such a lustful aftertaste. Seductive invites yet gentle passion. Rough and sweet. All ingredients producing bliss. Finally, just heavy breathing. Just empty memories of recent ecstasy. Panting, unable to catch breathe. Unable to open eyes, just blurry lingers of lust.

He turned to me, face in scarlet, vulnerable yet strong. "Zo how waz eet?"

"Just, wow." I answered, scooting into his warmth.

His arms around my bare torso. "Zo do ju do this with everee man ju meet?" He joked.

I chuckled softly, still taken by it all. "Yeah right, first time Frenchy." I said, bold now. Daring a nickname.

"Frenchy? Ju make me zound like fries." He joked.

We both laughed heartedly, finding hidden breathe to chuckle. "How bout you?"

"Vat about me?" He asked, kissing my ear, nibbling its lobe.

Any moment I would've laughed at this nibbling sensation, but I was nervous, serious, and hopeful. "You know, the first time you pick up a random kid you saw at the supermarket and ravished him." My mouth twitched up in bitter nerves.

"Ju veren't some random keed. Ju vere the first boy I lusted for back in zat rebellion." He whispered in my ear.

"You mean back when we were in elementary in the Canadian war?" I asked, taking in his honey burnt smell.

"I vas dans l'amour with ju. I still am." He said, lips and breathe pounding my neck.

"What does that mean?" I asked.

"In love." He answered.

"What about what you said before?" I asked.

"Ju mean vhen we fucked." He said grinning.

I wacked him in the chest playfully and chuckled. "No, back there before you first kissed me."

There was silence for a moment, perhaps he was tracing back his words. "Ah, zat. 'Ne pas avoir peur de toucher'?" He asked.

"Yeah that. What's it mean?" I sunk into his warmth once more.

"Do nut be afraid to touch." He said, rubbing his thumb back and forth on my back, giving me pleasant chills.

"I never learned your name. I just knew you as 'ze mole'." I said, trying to copy his French accent, but utterly failing.

He chuckled lightly. "It's Christophe, mon amour."

"Christophe?" I said, getting rather sleepy.

"Quoi, mon amour?" He said. Which I guess probably meant what.

"Will this ever end?" I asked, almost sad. As I was sinking into a warm slumber, eyes already closed, the stretched, pregnant silence held my hope lingering from being shattered. A single tired tear fell past my chin.

He noticed it and wiped it with his palm, his action seemed sad. "Oh, mon amour, refrain to cry." He kissed my wet cheek as I clutched tighter to his back. "As long as ju don't want eet to, I promise eet won't. You are my chéri. Je t'aime plus que la vie elle-même."

"What does that mean?" I asked, sinking in my slumber.

"Eet means, 'I love ju more than life itself'."

I buried my face in his chest and smiled. "I'm glad."

Then afterwards I saw nothing but sweet dreams.

It has been about eight years since that lovely night. I woke up that morning with a sore back and a shower of French kisses. See what I did there… haha-yeah what a lame joke. Anyways, I went back home to a mother with glaring eyes and a horrified father. Excuse was I spent the night with an old friend. Hey, it was true. Later on, Christophe and I started to officially date. I told Stan and Kenny. Stan was upset at first, he said he and Kenny were looking for me all night on the Valentines dance. I said I was sorry. Stan pouted and lashed out on me for a few days. Kenny was understanding. He never met Christophe before, but he said he trusted my judgment, and was happy for me. Though he still wanted to meet him. Something about him and Stan being like my own family left.

Though that was before Ike heard and then he and me where in good terms. He was just ignoring me because I was too much of a wimp for standing up to mom and dad, which I finally did when they found out I was dating Christophe. Cartman on the other hand, didn't talk to me for a while. Actually the last and first time he really talked to me after hearing the news was on grad night. He patted my head and gave the startled and confused me a hug. Then he said, "Sorry about all the shit I made you put up with. Just wanted to let you know that no matter who you're with, you're still my little monster." Then he left. Christophe didn't hear that, thankfully, who knew what the jealous French mercenary would do to the fatass. After a few years I kinda found out what he meant. I just kinda feel guilty I couldn't return his feelings, even if it _was_ the fatass we are talking about. We lost touch completely through college; he went off somewhere in New York, that's all I know.

Either way, I'm happy now with Christophe. He let me finish college in Michigan and he took some classes with me. Then afterwards, we went to France, and that's where we are now. Stan and I are still in touch, through email and chatting once and a while, since he still refuses to have a facebook. I still have touch with Kenny too. He and I still hang out sometimes. When I visit my family in holidays or when he comes to France by work. Did I mention he works as an airplane attendant? So when his plane is booked to France, he takes some days off to hang with me and Christophe. They get along, but Kenny still seems kinda tense around him.

I studied in English Literature and earned my Doctor's degree. I am now an English teacher at one of France's private high schools. Christophe lives as a mercenary. It's dangerous and stressful both for him and me, but I couldn't imagine him being happy behind a desk. He's like a wolf, or an eagle. He can't stay bound, he needs to run. It's admirable. That's why I don't get why they called him the mole back in my childhood. Sure he was sort of the information digger or something like that… I didn't even know what he was, I still don't! But even if the name fit his job, it certainly doesn't fit him.

We live in an average French apartment. I go to church (they have one Jewish church around my district) here, and he… he's an agnostic. I don't mind. I just ask for him not to talk badly of God when I'm not around. Either way, everything here is fine. We fight, we kiss, we love, we… do other stuff that's not appropriate for younger viewers. I can't imagine anything better.

Yet, why do I feel unsure of something?

I open my eyes to find myself back on the light field, back to the glistening orbs of light. Back in front of the angel. I remembered everything that she had told me, and even the whole vision I had just seen. I looked down at my hands. The orb was gone.

"Once looking into that path, the choice you have viewed will disappear from it's tangent form into the list of choices that you can choose from." She says calmly. "Wasn't it nice? That specific path, I mean."

"I feel like a whore." I say half-joking.

She laughs the most angelic laugh I've yet to hear. "Still, you lived a nice life."

"Yeah, it was nice." I smiled gently to the floor.

"Would you like to view more paths?" she asks, breaking my concentration.

"Sure, why not? I swear there is someone out there who is deliberately pairing me up with South Park folks."

"Then reach for another orb and cradle it gently." I do as she says and catch the next one pretty easily, despite the fact she ignored my ponder. I hold it gently in my palms.

"Which one do I end up with here?"

"The first choice you picked was Stan Marsh. Your second choice was Eric Cartman. Your third choice was Tweek Tweak. Your fourth choice is Christophe. It is not who you _end_ up with, but rather who you _begin_ with. You may end up with the one you begin with certain paths, and others you will not. In this specific path, you have chosen Craig Tucker." Wait, what?

"Ha, Hahaha!" I started laughing sarcastically. "This get's better and better doesn't it?" I say bitterly.

"Just close your eyes and put the orb near your heart, as you did before." She said, ignoring me.

I roll my eyes and do as I am told. I wake up in the same way I did last time.


	6. Porcelain Dolls

I head down the stairs after taking a shower and getting dress. I look ahead towards the living room and kitchen. No one seems to be there, my mother is probably on bed, refusing to make breakfast for her gay son. My father is at work, probably defending or persecuting someone in court this minute. My brother is still in England as an exchange student. He went just to get away from me, he even said so himself. I guess my sexuality preference bothers my family that much. At least my father isn't as dramatic as my little brother and controlling mother; still, he has been avoiding me ever since I came out. I was so afraid of telling anybody else, that I refrained from telling my friends, or anybody at school. Including my best friend Stan Marsh, whom I've been best friends with since even before preschool. He noticed that I have been hiding something from him, and after trying to pry it out of me, we got into a fight, he told me he never wanted to see me again. Worst of all Kenny seems to be dying more often for some reason, and Cartman is bullying me more and more than ever before. Despite all that crap and shit, I still feel hopeful today, I don't know why. Especially since I was considering suicide for the past two weeks.

I just head my direction to the kitchen and reach to the inside of the cupboard for a slice of bread. I head out the door with my house keys at hand and the slice of bread hanging out of my mouth. Stan is still angry at me, he'll probably never want to talk to me again. Kenny's probably dead from yesterday where he fell into a construction site and died instantly. Cartman's... well I don't really care anyways. So I glide down the steps and as I playfully jump down, the piece of bread hanging from my mouth breaks and half of the slice drops to the snow ground.

I just glare at the fallen piece of bread for a few seconds….. shit. I crouch down to pick it up. Should I eat it? I mean, it's different if I dropped it on the kitchen floor or if I just dropped an M&M on the snowy floor, but I dropped a piece of bread…. on the snowy ground. Dirty, snowy, moist, stepped on ground. Should I? I heard my stomach growl and I'm so tempted. I check around the bread to look for any dirty spots. Um, it's all wet, and still has flakes of snow on it. Should I? I'm… I'm so hungry. Would I be able to wait till lunch? My stomach growled again. I look around me to see if anyone is near and I stuff the bread down my mouth and painfully swallow it. I end up coughing violently from my hasty swallow, that is until I hear a roaring laughter. I look up, wincing from the burning in my throat, and see Craig Tucker at the other side of the road and he's laughing his ass off and pointing at my direction.

I immediately blush from the fact that someone actually saw my entire little… stupidity. I want to shout at Craig and tell him to go fuck himself, but my throat hurts too much and I kept it to myself. He's _still_ laughing. STILL! After a while he calmed down and brushed away tears of laughter from his eyes. The whole time I was pouting and glaring at him.

He's chuckling as he says, "Nice going, Broflovski."

"Keep your…" I said half way noticing my voice was hoarse. I clear up my throat and continue. "Keep your comments to yourself asshole!" I yell with a fist up in the air.

I see him chuckle as he crosses the street to my house. He talks lower as he says, "U-huh, and I'll do that once you eat your food properly." He says sticking up his middle finger.

I profusely blush. "Tha-that was… I was hungry!" I say defensively.

He chuckled again. "Ok, then. Come on, I don't want to be late to school." He says walking forward, as if expecting me to follow.

Normally I wouldn't just to spite him off, but I didn't want to be late to school too so I obliged and followed along. "Why do you want to go to school early? You barely go to school at all, and when you do you always get in trouble and sent to sit outside of the principal's office for flipping a teacher or even the principal himself off." I say all in one breathe, which kind of made me dizzy from lack of air.

He glances back and I see him smirking arrogantly. "Just cause." Is all he says.

I admit I'm not satisfied with that answer and I'm curious for the actual reason, but I let it go. Despite that, I end up pouting. He ended up seeing me pout and chuckled.

After a few moments of awkward silence, he begins to talk. "So you heading to the bus stop?" he asks. I notice the bus stop is at a distance and that he was leading me.

"Why are you asking me now when you've been leading me there this whole time!" I scream out annoyed.

"Just cause." He says again. At this moment I'm fusing and I feel myself going red with anger, still I keep silent and pout, glaring at the back of his head, that god damn blue chullo.

I see Stan and Cartman waiting at the bus stop. As soon as Stan sees me he opens his eyes wide in shock for a split second at Craig and then glares at me. I turn my head to the direction of the snow and shamefully look anywhere but at him. He just glares at me before storming off bitterly mumbling the words, "I'm going the long way." I see Craig glance at me with a quirked eyebrow from the corner of my eye. I sigh and stand next to the fatass while Craig is next to me.

"You guys are still pissy?" He teases.

"Fuck you, fatass." I pout.

"FUCK YOU, YOU FUCKING JEW RAT!" he screams angrily. "And what is that asshole doing here!" He points his swollen, fat thumb at Craig.

"FUCK YOU, FATASS!" I scream while Craig flips Cartman off with a blank face.

"Don't flip me off asshole! AND I'M NOT FAT! I just have a sweet hockey body." He retorts.

At that latter comment, both Craig and I cringe at the thought.

"AY! What's with that face! What you don't believe me! I'm a fucking chick magnet!" Cartman screams.

"Yes you are Cartman, since you're so fat you have your own gravitational pull. Of course you would attract anyone." I say, as I heard Craig chuckle, I acted as if I was being magnetized into Cartman. I pressed my back onto his shoulder and acted surprised. "Oh no! It's happening again! Craig! Help me, I don't want to live in Planet Fatass, its folds of fat will instantly kill me!"

Craig laughs as he pretends to be sucked into Cartman too and presses his back against Cartman. "I can't, Kyle! I'm being sucked in too!"

"AY! GET OFF ME ASSHOLES!" Cartman screams angrily.

"I'm too young to die!" I shout laughing.

"Argh! A fold of fat is crushing me!" Craig shouts laughing.

"Ah! Me too! My life is flashing before my very eyes!" I say in between laughs.

"My life can't, its memory is being sucked into his fat also!" He laughs.

Cartman pushes us off of him, making me fall into Craig's arms while we both are still laughing so much it hurts. "SCREW YOU GUYS, I'M GOING HOME!" He screams and stomps to the direction of home.

Craig and I are still laughing, our heads on both our shoulders. My right hand is clutching unto his jacket on his shoulder and my left hand is clutching unto my stomach. Both his hands are clutching his stomach and we can't stop laughing.

In between laughs I say, "Oh my God, I can't breathe…"

"Me neither!" Craig laughs.

"I'm going to get a six pack laughing so hard!" I say gasping for breathe and laughing.

"HA! Nerds can't be buff, retard!" He says laughing.

Usually I'd be insulted and in rage by now, but I'm laughing so hard I can't stop! "How can nerds be re…" I'm cut short by the horn of the bus.

We try to catch our breathe as we climb to our seats, we absent mindingly sit next to each other, and I see some people staring at us in confusion. As if asking, "What's so funny?"

After we finally calmed down, and the oxygen seeps into my brain, giving me a clear mind again, I realize what we were laughing about wasn't even that funny.

Craig seems to have calmed too and looks a bit confused. I stare at him and giving a look that asks "Why are you confused?" He just looks at me and asked, "When did the bus come and how did I get in?"

We just stare at each other for a while before bursting out laughing again.

"Dude! You were laughing so much you didn't even know we got on!" I say in between laughs.

"F-fuck you!" He said laughing.

It was like that for the rest of the short ride, we kept laughing for stupid things, and the people getting in were staring at us weirdly. When the bus stopped and we were at school, we got out _still_ laughing, our faces red and our stomachs hurting. We waved goodbye and went to class. Which was kind of weird because Craig is usually really rude and would flip me off if I dared to wave at him, but we were so caught up in the moment that we just went along with it. I went into class chuckling a bit and saw Stan is there in his seat. When he spotted me he quickly turned to the window, pretending to not see me. It was a childish thing to do. Though, it still made me feel like laughing, and even though I tried I couldn't help but laugh a bit more, not hysterically but still. I sat down on my regular seat, in front of Stan, and took out my text book in attempt to get serious. Unfortunately I opened to a page in my history book that had a man with a silly looking face. I buried my head on the desk and laughed hard and quiet on my arms. I could feel Stan's eyes boring into me with anger and confusion, but I couldn't help find even that funny! I'm so retarded today.

After an awkward and failed attempt to _not _laughing experience in homeroom and also the period after that, the bell finally rings, signaling lunch. Hungry as I am (especially since all I had was a dirty slice of bread for breakfast) I am surprisingly ambushed by Stan as soon as I stepped out of class. He drags me mercilessly by the arm to an unknown location.

"Ah, S-Stan! Where are you-" I tried to ask before I was interrupted by him.

A cruel, harsh, pissed, and almost hurt tone escaped from him as he said, "Shut up, I'm settling this now."

Before both of us could go further an arm scooped me from Stan's grip and held me still. I look up to see Craig glaring at Stan.

"Sorry Marsh, Kyle here promised me that he'd buy my lunch since I have no money." Craig said with his flat almost nasal tone (but of course it had gotten deeper over the years).

"What!" I ask in surprise.

Craig ignored me and continued. " Sorry, but you'll have to have a heart to heart later, Marsh" He said, continuing to glare at Stan.

He took me by the arm without another glance or word. I looked back at Stan who was standing there with his face in shock and his eyes bursting with hurt. I turn back and glare at Craig while I am still being dragged to the cafeteria.

"Hey, what is it with everyone and dragging me everywhere today?" I complain as we go in the lunch line.

He shrugs, and when I think he's not going to say anything else, he starts to explain, "You're like a doll."

"A doll!" I say, offended. That's a girl toy!

"Yeah, a doll. Like a porcelain doll." He answers.

"How the fuck did you come up with that conclusion?" I ask, cynically.

"Well, porcelain is hard right? Its appearance is also soft and appealing. Despite that, it's not cheap plastic or makeable like fabric. So it makes it good quality and yet it seems strong and it is something to be proud about if you have it. Everyone wants it, they would do almost everything to obtain it, and like a child they fall in love with it. Still, porcelain dolls require care and attention; you don't want it to crack or chip, right? Even though its shell seems strong, it can still break if you drop it, and if it doesn't brake, it chips and gains a scar. Then the quality of it goes down because of that scar and no matter what you do, you can't glue it back perfectly or make it 100% well again. You need to take care of it like it's the most precious thing in the entire world. You need to desperately hold on to it, since you love it so much. That's why everyone is dragging you, that's why everyone gets mad when you hold back, and that's why everyone looks at you in shock. It's because you amaze them and you awe them and they can't get enough of you, especially when you give them a taste. That's why you are a porcelain doll." He finished.

I stood there in complete shock. I got what he was trying to say, I got it too well, and that's what scares me. That's the most I've ever heard Craig say in my life. Not that he doesn't talk, but he's straight forward, painfully blunt, and barely explains in detail. So hearing this much, this deep, this detailed, it's amazing. Then again, I know what he meant, or at least I got what he was implying. At that note I felt myself blush and thank to Moses that he's not looking at me, and that the cafeteria is loud enough for anyone not to hear him say such embarrassing things.

"And since dolls are expensive, this one owes me. Meaning I want the spicy chicken sandwich today, also I want a chocolate chip cookie and iced tea, I only accept lemon black tea, and it has to be iced, so you'll need to get it at the vending machine instead of the line." He said smirking, still staring straight in front of him.

"What!" I scream, or rather squeak.

"That's another reason why you're a porcelain doll." He said.

"Because I said 'what'?" I say sarcastically.

"Because you just sounded like a little girl, and porcelain dolls _are_ a girl's doll." He said with a full on smile. An arrogant, taunting smile.

"FUCK YOU!" I scream and turn around to leave. Then I feel a hand latch onto my head and forcefully spin me back into the direction of the line and I see Craig push me back besides him. I'm a bit confused and weirded out at this, so I raise my finger to scold him, but I realize I have nothing to say and put my finger down and pout. I hear him chuckle softly and I fume silently more.

When we reach the lunch ladies Craig picks the most expensive things and I glare at him while reaching in my wallet. When we walk out, I intend to leave him, but he grabs my shoulder. As I look back I see him pointing at the vending machine next to us. I scowl as I reach out for a dollar and buy him the damn lemon black iced tea.

"I hate you…" I growl as I reach under the vending slot to grab the can.

"I hate you, too." He says as I feel his hand gently pat my hat.

I begin to blush deeply.

"F-fuck you…" I stutter as I give him the can and glare at him while I feel my cheeks heat up more.

"No, no." He says as if he's correcting me. "You don't do it like that; you make your face blank and make this sign." He raises his middle finger. He _is _correcting me! "It pisses people off more." He said smirking.

I felt my eye twitch with annoyance.

"Don't look at me like that, babe. It's a special trick you have the honor of learning from me. If you call me master from now on, I'll teach you more." He winked as he turned.

I felt myself blush, but I was still furious. "What did you just call me dickwad!" I scream to him.

He stops and turns his head. He cocks his forward and keeps walking, so basically he signaled me to follow him with his head. I am NOT going to follow that asshole. Not EVER.

Despite my fierce declaration in my mind, I ended up following him and kept repeating the question of why I was following in my head. We ended up going to a desolated hallway and he opened a door.

"Um, Craig?" I asked.

He simply looked up at me with a quirked brow.

"Are we even allowed to go up there?" I asked, a bit worried while I look around the area for any teachers or assistant principal.

He just shrugs and smirks. "I dunno, I just do." He winks as he takes my free hand (the one that wasn't holding the lunch tray) and pulls me in. I couldn't help but feel my heart flutter and my cheeks heat as he pulled me in the dark room. I couldn't see anything, nothing at all, just the distinct smell of dust and wood. Then I see a fire, and the faded light of Craig's profile. He has a lighter on. Then he reaches up and lights the old style lamp on the ceiling. Then he goes to light the next one, and that's when I noticed he still has a hold of my hand. So I pull my hand back and I thank Moses it's still dark enough that he can't completely see my face. He chuckles as he lights the last and third one. Then he closes the lighter and puts it in his pocket.

He goes to sit down on an old wooden box and starts to eat. After a while of me staring, he looks up and waves his hand to signal me sitting down. I realize that I was staring and go to sit down on another old wooden box. I start to eat and it's awkward and quite for a while.

"Why are you and that pretentious snob fighting?" He asks while nibbling on a chocolate chip cookie.

"Hey, don't call Stan that!" I growl. "It's my fault anyways." I admit pouting.

"What you do? Tell him that his IQ is low because of how much brain damage he's getting from football?" Craig said, taking a large bite of his chicken sandwich.

"Shut the fuck up, Craig! You shouldn't be talking! You're always getting Fs in class." I say, which is true.

"That's because school is boring and uninteresting. The things people teach are the same thing over each year, and when they teach something new, the other students don't get it till the 20th time the teacher explains it, and the thing they teach isn't important or relevant to challenge the mind." He explains putting his iced tea down. Then he looks up and smirks arrogantly, "Plus, I tested my IQ 2 years ago. It was 119."

I just stare at him shocked. "Wow… that's so close to mine."

"What is yours? I'm curious." He says.

"121, last year. I haven't tested this year yet."

"What about your EQ test (**A/N: for those who don't know what an EQ test is, it's the same as an IQ test, but it tests your emotional intelligence.)**?" Craig asked me.

"Oh um, my mom always wants me to take those." I hear Craig laugh. "Shut up! Jeesh! Want me to tell you or not?" I say, annoyed.

"Sorry, dude." He says containing laughter.

"Anyways, I always get a 9 or a 10 out of 12." I say proudly.

I hear Craig laugh sarcastically. "Bullshit." He says.

"Oh really! What's your score!" I dare.

"At least I'm honest. I usually get 4 out of 12. I don't do that good." He says like it's nothing.

I just start thinking about what kind of thoughts he usually gets.

He glares at me, "Don't look at me with that face, I don't need your pity. I have unresolved issues, yeah. That's why I get a low score, but everyone in this damn hick town has fucking demons to fight." He says sternly and bitterly.

I chuckle dryly. "You're telling me?" I say, playing with the cap of my G2 bottle.

He looks at me curiously.

Oh what the hell. "That's why I can't tell Stan. And that's why he's mad at me, because he knows I'm hiding something." I look down. Shit, I can feel the tears welling up. I can't cry, not in front of someone as composed and strong as Craig. I will be damned if I cry in front of him.

"And what's that?" He asks calmly.

I stay quite.

"If it helps I'll tell you something I have been keeping a secret since the 7th grade." He says.

"I bet it's not as bad as mine. Yours is probably that you still watch Red Racer reruns." I chuckle sadly, keeping my head down.

I suddenly hear a pound on the wooden crate; I look up abruptly to see Craig slam his finished tea on the crate. He looks pissed off and even, dare I say, a bit hurt.

"You always do that! You always create illusions in your mind because you live souly in your mind. You live in the equation of competition and the urge to win." He gets up and stands, glaring down at me. Then he steps forward and lifts my chin up with his fingers. "Well, life isn't only about winning and loosing, it isn't only about offense and defense. Mad and Happy aren't the only emotion and Blue and Purple aren't the only colors. There are different spectrums in each scale, in each subject." He leans down; his lips not even an inch from mine. "We aren't enemies, we weren't even enemies when we were in elementary, and we certainly aren't now. So stop competing with me like I'm Cartman. I'm Craig Tucker and just because of that, you don't fuck with me."

He walks away and sits back at his desk and continues eating like nothing. I inhale deeply, catching the breathe I never knew I lost.

"Someone needs to kick you off your victimized pedestal once in a damn while." He says.

As I was about to defend myself, he starts talking. "Do you want to know my 'meager' secret or not, Broflovski?" He warns. Usually I wouldn't give two shits of his story, but for some reason I stay quite.

He sees that I give up and he smirks and begins. "When I was in 7th grade, I found a diamond. It was beautiful, the most radiant thing in this God damn planet. It was always around me, but I never truly saw it, for some reason it never truly shined when it was around others, but once it shined around me. After that, I couldn't stop being blinded by it, I kept seeing its rays, and it kept glowing when it smiled and when it burst in fury. It was a bit high and mighty, and a bit of a pain in the ass. It hurt me too. Since it was a real diamond it can cut through glass with ease, and God knows its sharp edge cut me more than a bunch of times, even though it never really knew that it did. Still it held passion so heavy that you could cry from awe. I never wanted anything more than that diamond. I never really wanted anything before; I found everything boring and dull. So dull I could choke, but when I found this diamond, I wanted it so bad; I would literally do anything to get it. I was jealous of others who were around it all the time, I wanted it for myself so greedily, so selfishly. Everyone seemed to want it too, _everyone_. The girls, and the boys. I found myself being a simple contestant to win this miracle. Everyone saw it as a prize, a prize to get, to win. Despite that, I knew better. I knew it was much more than a prize. It was my lifeline. My new purpose, I couldn't get over it if I wanted to, and trust me I do want to and I did try, many times. I knew that it would never love me back, and I could never even compete, this diamond was reserved for girls. But God knows if I even had a chance, a chance to compete, then I'd to anything to take it and drown it its utter brilliance. Despite that, I still can't control myself around it, I still love it, and all I ever had in life was control in my actions and emotions, but when it comes to this diamond, control doesn't exist." He explains. "In other words, I'm in love and it's one-sided." He said calmly.

I stood there in awe. He's… amazing. I never would have thought him to be the type to fall in love so passionately, so deeply. He's full of surprises.

"So what's your secret?" He asks.

"Um…" I start nervously. "I…" It can't be helped. My heart is racing, I'm too nervous. I can't say anything. I don't want anyone to know. My family hates me for it, if he finds out; he could shun me, and not when I had just come to enjoy his company. Not when I had just come to…

I found myself crying without realizing. For some reason I kept trying to say it, "I-I am…"

I saw his face, it was shock and concern. He reached his hand to me. I smacked it harshly away. "STOP! Don't touch me, I'm disgusting!" I screamed.

His eyes were wide open.

"If I told you, you'd hate me too. You'd hate me like my parents and my brother. You'd ignore me and be embarrassed and shun me and you'll never talk to me ever again." Shit, I don't want to break down here. Not around Craig. I don't want to show him my weak side.

Suddenly he wrapped his arms around me and made shushing noises. I tried to push him away and tell him that he can't touch me, but with every struggle he held on tighter.

"I will never hate you, nor will I ever shun you, got it?" He whispered.

The tears couldn't stop spilling, I tried to swallow my fears and I built up my strength. "I'm gay." I said in a swift, breaking voice.

Everything was silent and the air was so suspenseful it almost suffocated me. Then Craig separated from me, but still kept his large, slender hands on my shoulders.

"You're what?" He asked, his eyes wide-open and in complete shock, his face almost as if it were in a trance or in deep thought.

I got pissed at the look of his face. I knew it! He hates me, I fucking knew it! "I'm GAY! HOMOsexual! I like men! You have a problem with that, assh…" I was cut off by Craig's lips on mine.

All anger and irritation and fear was forgotten, only the feeling of his chapped lips pressed roughly against mine lay present. Just a deep taste of shock and tea. He smelled like burnt cinnamon and shampoo. He tasted like lemon tea and chocolate. No tongue, no teeth, no movement, just pressed lips. After what seemed an eon, we separated. He stared at me with half lustful eyes while I… did I even close my eyes. I was so shocked or maybe I was so lost in the feeling, either way I was so distracted that I didn't even know. All I knew is that I wanted more.

I don't even know what happened next; we both just kind of attacked each other. It was so strange, but I was so wrapped in the tight sensation of pleasure and lust. We groped each other as we drenched our mouths with each others and drowned in the sweet taste of it all. One thing led to another and I ended up panting… on the floor… naked and satisfied. Our hats were off and my head hurt from bumping into things. How… how the fuck did this happen? Did I regret it? I looked at a panting Craig next to me. He was lying sideways, clutching unto my chest like a child, his head buried in my arm. I was lying on my back and blushing like crazy.

What time was it? It's probably pass lunch, it could very well be pasted 5th period. I saw his hair, without his chullo, it looked so soft and silky. I want to ruffle it. I went to touch it, and when I was just inches from his hair, he said something.

"I love you."

I stopped suddenly and kept my hand in the air.

"I've always loved you; ever since I saw you try to ride that two wheel over and over in the middle of the night. All the other kids could ride two wheeled bikes by 6th grade and went harassing the lower grades like the kids before that. Everyone could ride bikes except you, and no matter how humiliating it was you kept trying. You kept trying no matter how many times you failed and fell in the bushes. No matter how many times you came to school with broken bones and bandages and bloody scrapes, you kept on trying to ride the bike. Then one day when Cartman bet 20 dollars that you couldn't ride the bike from Stark's Pond to your house and back five times, you surprised us all when you rode to and from without stop those five times."

I stared at him with awe, he remembered. He knew how hard I tried.

"The best part is that you didn't try to do it to fit it, you did it because you wanted to ride a bike. You did it to prove Cartman and everyone wrong that you could ride it. I've never tried at anything so hard in my life; I've never had interest in anything with such passion before. To see you so focused and determined, I couldn't help but fall for you. You were like the part of me that I was missing. You're like fire, so beautiful and enticing, but so headstrong and wild. Like precious porcelain or a shining diamond. You're the fire that I was missing, the inspiration that I was searching for, every action you do leaves me in awe, you're so amazing it hurts to see." He said clutching on tighter. I looked at his hidden face and saw his ears and cheeks red, so red like a rose.

"Craig, I…" I had nothing to say.

"You're _not_ disgusting, your family is just stupid. They can't even see your brilliance. They are blind idiots. You're so much worth it."

For a person like Craig, someone so private and reserved, someone so blunt yet impulsive. Someone so secretive and full of surprises. He's like a child right now. If I touch him he'll cry, if I embrace him he seems so fragile I could break him. I don't want to ever hurt him. I want to… I want to keep him all for myself right now. I want to be the only one that can see this side of him. The only one that can ever see his blushing face, or his crying face. The only one who could kiss him, the only person who could love him. Oh my God… I'm in love with Craig. When did this happen? How did I fall? Did it happen when we where laughing so hard we couldn't breathe? Did it happen when he compared me to a doll? When he talked about me like I was a diamond, or when he held me when I cried? Was it when he kissed me? Or when we… you know?

Thing is, I don't care either way. I just want to ruffle his hair; I just want to… kiss him passionately again. So I did. I laced my hand in his hair with one hand and lifted his chin up with my other hand. I looked at his scarlet face for a moment before I gently pressed my lips to him. No tongue, just the movement of our lips opening and closing against each other and the warmth of our bodies radiating.

Then came the Valentine's dance. Craig and I have been openly dating since that day. He claims that now that he has me, he can't keep it to himself, and really, neither can I. I just don't say it; I don't know how he can say it. Of course if anyone asks, he'll flip them off. He never says things like that in front of others, just to me. Like little secrets that are locked away, only for us to know. Shit, I sound like a lovesick girl.

Stan was a bit (extremely) furious when he found out I was dating Craig, especially since he already knew I was gay. He was angrier that I was keeping things from him; at least that's what he claims. Despite that, he still hates Craig. They hate each other, they will start glaring at each other from opposite ends of the room if they could, and in fact they tend to do that in class. It makes the teachers uncomfortable and me too. Kenny was fine with it, he and Craig always got along, and so it wasn't a problem. Still, I could see the moments of sadness when Craig and I were together. Though I brushed it off as uncomfortable. Still we were a pretty reserved couple, didn't cuddle or kiss in public. We just held hands and were constantly around each other. Cartman didn't seem to like us being together. Just as I thought, we were ambushed with gay jokes and insults and I fumed and raged at each and every one of them while Craig laughed at my retorts, but he mostly just flipped Cartman off.

When it came to the dance, I didn't care if we went to it or not, I just wanted to be with him, as corny as that sounded, and boy did it sound corny (**A/N: Kyle is have an OTL moment now, lol XD)**. Craig didn't want to go and be stuck with those "dickheads" as he said it. So he invited me to his house. I rang his doorbell and came in contact with a little 13/14 year old girl glaring at me. She had light blonde hair and a very apathy filled demeanor (I guess that's a family trait). She had a striped pink chullo (another family trait I guess), a purple scarf, a pink jacket, purple skirt, light and dark pinked stripe stockings, and purple boots. She looked like she was about to leave. She also looked like she could kill a tiger glaring eyes.

"You know you do look like a nerd." She said in flat high pitched voice. When she opened her mouth I noticed her braces, the top row were purple and the bottom were pink.

I thought she was cute (still scary), until she opened her mouth. "Excuse me, little miss angry Barbie?" I retorted.

She glared at me more intensively. "What are you, a Jew right? So how many dradels do you have? If ya want I can make you a pretty faggot necklace out of all those colorful dradels."

I felt myself twitch out of irritation. "Sure, sounds swell, and while we're at it, I can teach you how to dress. Maybe you'll look normal, rather than a little prissy bimbo. We could find an outfit that actually goes with your attitude." I retorted.

"At least I dress better than you." She said, loosing patience.

God, this girl doesn't know how to insult. She thinks she does, but she doesn't. "No, bad chose. You just lost the battle. A better insult would have been 'Sure and maybe we can go shopping for new textbooks next. We have plenty of time since a nerd like you wouldn't have a life in the first place.' But I like the dradel one that was pretty clever." I said.

She just stared at me for a while a bit shocked. Then she smiled, not a smirk, but normal smile. "I like you kid, you could get along, you and me." She said patting my arm like she was 20 years older than me as she walked out the door.

Just then I heard Craig laughing. He was at the door of the kitchen and holding his stomach. I walked to him and punched him on the shoulder lightly with annoyance. "She reminds me of you, asshole."

He chuckled and he pulled me in closer by the waist with his arms. Then he pecked me on the lips lightly. I leaned to kiss him and wrapped my arms around his neck. We French kissed for a while and then we separated.

Then I realized his parents aren't here. I look around and say, "Dude, where are your parents?"

"Out on a fancy restaurant for Valentine." He said kissing my jawline.

"And why did your sister leave?" I asked, trying not to moan.

"She's going to her punk ass boyfriend." Suddenly he stopped kissing me. " His name is Taylor, have you met him?" He asked.

"Uh, yeah. He's one of Ike's friends. Why?" I ask.

"Cause that little fucker makes me nervous. He's like one of those guys who go around with girls all the time, he's only 17 but he's… he's kinda like Kenny." Craig says.

"Aww, is Craig worried for her wittle sister?" I tease.

"Shut it Broflovski, if you tell her I'll beat your ass." He growls, despite his glare and growl, he had a sense of lust in his eyes.

"Oh really? Is that all I came for?" I tease coming within inches of his lips.

"Nope!" He said as he pecked my lips and dragged me by the hand upstairs.

"I always wondered what your room looked like… it's like your living room. It's all blue. What is your sister's room purple and pink?" I joke.

"Actually it is." He responds, opening the window.

I just stare at him surprised. I didn't expect that, I was only joking. "Dude… your family is too predictable."

He flips me off and then starts to climb up the window.

"What the fuck are you doing?" I ask.

"Climbing up my window, what else?" He answers.

"Let me rephrase that question. WHY the fuck are you climbing up your window?" I asked.

"Well, why are you Jewish?" He asks.

"Haha, it's so funny I lost all my will to laugh." I said.

"I see, if I'm that insanely funny I'll use my awesome powers for good." He said, reaching for my hand.

I roll my eyes and take it. As he pulls me up to help me climb up the window, I say, "Good? What kind of good?" I ask.

"The good of only telling them to you." He said winking.

"So you can annoy me?" I tease, trying to gain my balance on his roof.

"Yes." He was about to step forward but stopped and took off his coat and laid it on the roof tiles. "Ladies first." He smiled wickedly.

I just stared at him. After a while he pointed to the jacket. I still stood still and looked at him.

"No, Kyle. See you lay on it. Like this." He lays on the jacket and puts his arms behind his head.

I just lay on the jacket after him. "Is my little princess loosing brain cells?" He said in a baby tone while he pinched my cheek.

"You said ladies first, so I was waiting till you laid down first. I was only doing the proper thing for a guy, you know." I grinned deviously.

"Smartass." He grumbles as we gazed at the stars.

"This is so cliché." I said.

"It's better than going to a fucking high school dance." He said.

"Does the author have any original date ideas?" I complained.

"Nah, you see, she's a cheesy fan girl romantic, so she's the one making us do these things." Craig said.

"Ah… that explains so much. No wonder I kept thinking this reminded me of a fan fiction." I said.

After a few silent moments of gazing at the stares, I felt Craig lift my arm and wrap it around him as he buried his face to my side. I felt his cheeks arm up and I couldn't help but find him adorable.

He really is, just like a kid.

Twenty years have past. We still haven't had a girl president, in fact America is now a communist country (like we didn't see that coming…). That's why Craig and I are now divorced and dead. Yes, we are dead and very much in Hell. At least there are no Mormons here and Sudan Husain is still crazy as fuck.

Just kidding, yes, I know. I'm very mean.

Twenty years really did past, but we really live in North Carolina now. Craig works in engineering and I work in entertainment production. Ha, I'm not an actor, yeah right. I'm a script writer (comedy obviously). I send my work to Hollywood, since I refuse to live there. Craig and I are living in one roof and still very much in love, and alive. We are both now 37 and today is our Anniversary. We've had pretty big fights and bumps on the way, but we stuck together.

For example, Stan tried to steal me away in senior year by sexually harassing me for a while… in other words he came on a bit too strong. I didn't even know he liked me till he kissed me in front of the hallway, in front of many, many people. Craig was devastated, but once he knew that it was all Stan's doing and I had nothing to do with it, Craig went all macho and tried to fight Stan. I talked him out of it, I told him that I was big enough to fight my own battles and if he ever tried anything, I'd punch him. And Stan did try, and I _did_ punch him. Stan was hurt, not only physically, but once I told him that I don't see him that way and that I have my eyes only on Craig, he still didn't calm down. Not until Kenny had a talk with him. I didn't know what they talked about, but Stan stopped coming after me.

I still keep in touch with Stan and Kenny though. Kenny and I are the best of friends and he lives in North Carolina too. He's my drinking partner and my best friend. Best friend ever since Stan never talked to me after our last year in college when he found out Craig and I were planning to move to North Carolina and live together. I kind of miss him, I mean, he _was _my super best friend, but it's his own fault. Cartman on the other hand lives in New York and is a big time business man. How do I know this and not even know where or what Stan is/does? Kenny of course. He doesn't know much about Stan, but he keeps in touch with Cartman, who's getting married to, believe it or not, Wendy Testaburger in the summer.

My parents are still not happy with me, but Ike and I are still close. In fact he comes visits me every other month because wants to see how I'm coming along with the script. Did I mention that little bastard is my boss…. yeah my _little _brother is my boss. Serious bummer. Despite that, Craig's little sister makes video games, or at least she's one of the people who does. So the next BioShock game or Final Fantasy could be from her company. We get along fine and WE keep insulting each other playfully.

Craig and I are happy, in love, living together for more than 15 years. Still, after all these years, even though he acts tough and aloof, he still clutches on to me and buries his head to my side when we are alone.

I open my eyes to find myself back on the light field, back to the glistening orbs of light. Back in front of the angel, with tears still streaming down my eyes. I remembered everything that she had told me, and even the whole vision I had just seen. I looked down at my hands. The orb was gone.

"Once looking into that path, the choice you have viewed will disappear from its tangent form into the list of choices that you can choose from." She says calmly. "

"Yeah, yeah, you keep saying that over and over." I say.

"Would you like to view more paths?" she asks, ignoring me.

"You know your cheerfulness is a bit annoying." I say.

"Reach for another orb and cradle it gently." I do as she says as I roll my eyes and catch the next one pretty easily. I hold it gently in my palms.

"Which one do I end up with here?"

"The first choice you picked was Stan. The second chose was Eric Cartman. The third chose was Tweek Tweak. The fourth chose was Christopher. The fifth chose was Craig Tucker. It is not who you _end_ up with, but rather who you _begin_ with. You may end up with the one you begin with certain paths, and others you will not. In this specific path, you have chosen Butters Scotch."

"Wait, who did you say I'd end up with?"

"Leopold 'Butters' Scotch. Age 17…" she states calmly before I cut her off.

"I know who Butters is! Just get on with it, please!"

Why do I feel like I wasn't shocked this kid was gay…?


End file.
